The Day The World Started Moving Again
by Azorrah Lee
Summary: The sky opened and the universe expanded exponentially; that day Kurt Hummel's life began a new. The legacy bequeathed to him by his rich heritage set him on a journey unparalleled by anything he's done before; the boy who loved nothing more than musical theatre has emerged from his chrysalis as a man on a mission- Save the world, one person at a time.
1. Chapter 1 of Phase 1

**A/n: I don't know why this is happening or why this is happening now but this plot bunny was aggressively humping in the back of my mind, I know I should be working on my other fics but this needed to be written.**

 **What we have here is an MCU crossover, it diverges from the glee cannon in Never Been Kissed but has some crazy AU happening undercover before that. Let me know what you think.**

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Kurt stumbled into the house and leaned against the door, he slid to the floor and a hiccupped sob escaped his lips, he covered his mouth and sobbed violently. The room spun just as it had a few hours ago, Kurt Hummel had been kissed. He had forgotten his role and he had acted impulsively by following Karofsky into the boy's locker room, shouting at the boy and standing his ground; Kurt had risked being found out just so he could stop feeling small. He had gone into that locker room with every intention of fighting the boy but no idea what the outcome would be; to say he was surprised by the events that had followed his entry into the locker room would be the understatement of the century.

The kiss had been unexpected and mostly unwelcomed, he didn't want to kiss David Karofsky but if the boy hadn't been such a putrid person then Kurt would have thought that he was cute and not minded making out with him, and now he would never get a second chance at his first kiss. He had acted hastily and had to give away a piece of himself as a result, his whole life he had hidden a varying portions of himself from the world but he had always thought that being honest and true to himself would have nothing but rewards- he had been wrong.

"Kurt," his father hugged him tightly, "I'm so sorry."

"Daddy," Kurt's sobbing halted, "Wait, how do you know?"

"I saw it on the news this morning," Burt shook his head, "I'm so sorry."

"On the news?" Kurt whispered to himself.

"Go pack a bag and meet me in the car," his father let him go and walked away.

"This morning?" Kurt asked himself, profoundly confused. Kurt looked around for the first time and saw the men packing everything they owned into boxes, carrying their belongings out to a truck on the curb that he hadn't noticed in his daze; Kurt wondered if driving home from school had been the best idea given his current psychological state but he quickly shook that feeling away, he had been sufficiently aware. Kurt walked down the stairs to the basement, his furniture was all gone and his room was all packed aside from his closet and bathroom. Kurt began to pack an overnight bag, pack his toiletries and grabbed his school bag; the movers would pack everything he left behind, he knew this dance well enough to do it through the fog in his mind.

"I'm sorry about your friends," his father said as Kurt got into the car, "but this has to happen."

"Why exactly is this happening?" Kurt wiped his eyes as his father followed the route he'd just taken from school, "Why are we moving again? I assume that's why those people were packing our stuff?"

"We're moving to Alaska," his father sat stiffly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

Kurt nodded, "I have fathomed that much, why?"

"We'll discuss this later," his father shook his head as he drove.

"The school year has only just begun," Kurt shook his head, "I don't understand why this is happening now."

The car came to rest in front of the school, "Go in and get your books, I already called the school."

Kurt nodded, "what do I tell people?"

"You don't tell them anything other than that we had to move," his father leaned over and opened the car door, "This is the only thing I need you to do for yourself, all of your stuff will be waiting when we get there but I need you to get your school books so you can start at a new school tomorrow."

"What about the life we have here?" Kurt sniffled.

His father groaned, "we'll start a new life where we're going." His father untied his seat belt, "we'll move to Alaska and have a great life like we did here, we'll open another garage and I'll teach."

Kurt nodded and got out of the car.

~0~

 _A year later:_

Kurt kicked a pebble, "Let's move to Alaska, it'll be great." He pulled his coat tighter around himself as he grumbled, "we can have the garage and I can teach. Stupid dad with his stupid ideas. Stupid Thor with his landing in fucking New Mexico, couldn't have landed in Australia or France?"

Kurt kicked up a cloud of wet sand as he walked along the beach, he understood why they had moved out of Lima but it didn't mean he had to like it; it wasn't the first time they'd had to move but it wasn't something Kurt would get used to. The arrival of an Asgardian a few states away meant that they could find his father and end his self-imposed exile, it would essentially destroy his life and as a result they had to move to somewhere even more remote than Lima unless he wanted what happened to his mother to happen to his father.

If Kurt was honest with himself, this place was better than Lima in a lot of ways; his bullies here didn't require as much acting because they were more on the petty side than violent, the school district was technically better although lacking in an arts programme, and he got to wear layers almost all year round. There were many drawbacks as well; he didn't have a car anymore because everything was in walking distance, he'd had to leave all his friends in a one-line dismissal like Matt Rutherford, and the shorter days had made him so pale he glowed in the dark- which it almost always was.

Waiting for Kurt at the edge of the beach, leaning against his bicycle, was the only friend he'd made since moving here; Charlie Scot-Harrison. For all intents and purposes, their friendship shouldn't work; Charlie was popular material and a star sports player while Kurt was still himself minus Glee- not that he hadn't tried to get one going up here. They did share the bond of being unique within the student body, Kurt had taken on the moniker of being this town's 'only' gay kid and Charlie was the only African-American student at their school, but their friendship was forged on their shared interest in the growing population superhumans.

Kurt had been filing newspaper articles that related to past events that would make more sense under the lens of current events when Charlie had stopped next to his table in the cafeteria, the boy peered over his shoulder and Kurt had expected a snide comment about how nerdy he was but instead he got an excited question about the new masked crime fighter who had a spider themed suit. They had bonded and made quick friends; in the same way he had discovered that his mutual interests with Noah Puckerman extended beyond the contents of a dumpster; he found that the more time he spent with Charlie, the more he grew fond of the boy.

"You see the redesign of the Iron Man suit on last night's news?" the boy smiled excitedly, practically bouncing on the spot.

"Indeed I did good man," Kurt nodded with a small smile, "It might be my second favourite."

"After the one he used in South Africa to stop the Hulk," the boy's grin grew as he nodded his head in agreement, "that one will always reign supreme."

Kurt mused to himself as they walked up to the school, "Do you think we'll ever be that lucky?"

"To have our city destroyed by The Avengers?" Charlie scoffed, "Boy bye, you know this probably technically isn't even a city." He leaned down to chain his bicycle, "we'll be lucky if a small time villain decided to test their destruct-o-ray on us like they did Alderon."

"They can destroy cities in Africa and Europe but not this one," Kurt rolled his eyes, "not that I'd want them anywhere near here because then my dad would move us to the moon but it would be nice to meet them."

"You just want to flirt," Charlie nudged his shoulder.

"Me? Never," Kurt feigned surprise, "/I want to ask them some questions without having to move."

"What's your dad's deal with that anyway?" Charlie quirked a curious brow as he got his books out of his locker, "the man is straight up paranoid about this shit. Is he some kind of Hero hater?"

"Don't make me say it again," Kurt rolled his eyes as they moved toward his own locker.

Charlie matched his facial expression, "it's complicated."

"He just wants to keep me safe," Kurt shrugged as he got his math and physics books, "we both said it, these people destroy cities and he doesn't want to be a part of that."

"I think he's secretly a supervillain," Charlie teased, "on the run from the law."

"I think you're not funny," Kurt slammed his locker, just missing Charlie's fingers, "but my dad isn't nearly that interesting."

"Have you ever heard him say 'Hail Hydra'?"

"I hate you," Kurt responded, "Besides, all the Hydra documents are on the internet and he isn't mentioned once." Kurt took his seat in home room and Charlie sat down on his desk, "also the wrong part of Europe."

"We have people who are affiliated with the Nazis and Hydra here in the land of the free so why not in the land of…" the boy faltered, "what is it the land of?"

"And how the fuck should I know?" Kurt growled.

"It's your heritage," Charlie shrugged, "Your dad is a FOB, you're first generation."

"That's probably the first and the last time my dad was referred to as 'fresh'," Kurt giggled.

"Get a room Homos," one of the hockey players shouted at them across the classroom before high-fiving his friends.

"Get a brain dick-head," Kurt snapped back, to the delight of the entire home room.

The jock got to his feet, "What did you say?"

"It was more for the enjoyment of the audience as one does require a brain to comprehend sound," Kurt pursed his lips and turned back to Charlie.

"Do you want to take this outside?"

"I don't want to take this anywhere," Kurt shook his head, "I'm actually quite happy exactly where I am, but thank you for the offer."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," Kurt smirked.

"Look," Charlie got to his feet, "we don't want trouble Chad, you go sit down and I won't take your spot on the Hockey team and cost you all of your potential scholarships."

"Potential means possessing the capacity to develop into something in the future," Kurt interjected.

"Go sit down Chad," Charlie pointed to the vacant seat.

"Yes Mr Reid," the teacher glared, "Take your seat. Mr Hummel, a word when the warning bell sounds."

The jock turned around, "not worth the trouble."

"You don't play ice hockey yet he's afraid you'd take his spot," Kurt smirked, "You have got to teach me how to do that."

Charlie turned to Kurt and leaned in close, "only if you teach me how you take a punch like you do."

"I fainted the last time I got punched," Kurt shook his head.

Charlie chuckled, "I was there, I wish I recorded it so I could send it in to the academy for an Oscar nomination, best actor."

"My life's dream has always been to thank the judges for picking me," Kurt fanned away imaginary tears, "my parents whom I love, I love the you Houston."

"Solid Beyoncé reference," Charlie fist bumped him.

"Every Superhero boffin should pay homage to the original superhero," Kurt kissed two fingers and lifted them to the heavens, "hail Beyoncé Carter, of the House Knowles; Mother of Blue Ivy, breaker of Superbowls, Queen of the Bey Hive, Artistic Genius and moulder of a generation."

"I thought you weren't a geek," Charlie smiled.

"Game of Thrones transcends geekdom," Kurt shook his head, "Beyoncé is basically the real life Khaleesi."

Charlie rolled his eye and the warning bell sounded in the background, "what was it you wanted me to teach you?"

Kurt sashayed to the desk, "Yes Miss Daniels."

"I saw that you and Mr Reid were having quite the heated exchange," she pulled her spectacles down the bridge of her nose and looked him dead in the eye over the top of the frame, "if you feel in any way targeted by his attention you should discuss the matter with a member of the faculty."

"I'm fine," Kurt nodded politely, "but thank you for your concern."

"We have an open door policy," the woman returned to her reading, "at your leisure."

"What were we saying a few moments ago?" Charlie quirked a brow in his direction, "Something about wanting to learn to play sport like I do?"

"How's about you teach me how to shut the fuck up instead?" Kurt smiled nervously.

"That sounds like a plan to me," Charlie smiled.

"You want to take a swing at AP Calculus BC?" Kurt shook his shoulders, sulking.

Charlie swung his arm around Kurt's shoulders as they walked to their first class of the day, "What I want to do is go home."

"You mean… cut school?" Kurt's shoulders stiffened and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

"You know you want to do it," Charlie crooned in his ear, "we could read more."

"You almost had me," Kurt untangled himself from the other boy and led him into their first period class, "till you mentioned reading."

"Damn," Charlie fell into his seat, "We can't read without school."

"Yes," Kurt smiled as he took opened his maths books, "we can't read without school."

~0~

"And my mom keeps riding me about college scholarships," Charlie explained, pushing his bicycle beside him as they walked, "she said it's not about affordability, it's about knowing the rewards of hard work, I'm counting on a sports' scholarship because my grades are average at best."

"Above average," Kurt corrected him, "You'll get into a good college."

"Good college," Charlie let loose a manic laugh, "my family has been going to top tier schools for as long as they've been letting black people in."

"Not my fault you guys are fancy," Kurt shrugged.

"Says the guy who reads college level papers," Charlie teased.

"Only to understand the way the world is changing right now," Kurt lifted his hands in surrender, "but physics is so hard and it requires so much math."

"You're telling me?" Charlie groaned, "calculus is Satan's way of entering the world, legit."

They came to rest at the edge of the beach, "I just want the future to go on vacation for like another year."

"It's called a gap year," Charlie shifted from one leg to another, "you have that option."

"But it would be so boring," Kurt groaned, "I like being active."

"Still nothing on that internship?" Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing," Kurt sulked like a child who was being deprived of their toys, "Stark Industries is so rude! Sure I want to use them for their intelligence and to get more knowledge," Kurt stomped his foot indignantly, "the least they can do is let me have my way."

"So rude," Charlie's voice was flat.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'm going home now."

"Don't be sad, don't be blue," Charlie called after Kurt as he stormed off, "Frankenstein was ugly too."

Kurt flipped his friend a bird, "Die."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Charlie called out after him, "Text you later."

Kurt trudged down the beach, he put his headphones on and was greeted by the sweet crooning of Lana Del Rey. Kurt sang along to the music, leaving his footprints in the sand as he went along; the school day had been long and draining, being an open book was tiring but it was the best way to go about matters if he didn't want people looking too hard into him.

Kurt was deep in thought when he fell over something, "Holy mother of megazon."

He looked back to see a large piece of driftwood, he got up but as he moved to kick it for tripping him he realised that it wasn't driftwood. Kurt moved closer and nearly fell over backward when he saw that it was a man, a dead man. Kurt pulled out his cell phone and dialled Charlie's number.

"I said we'd talk later," Charlie sniped, "but have you ever heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I just found a dead body," Kurt snapped back, he hung up. He moved closer but jumped back when he noticed that the man's chest was moving, he was breathing.

"Where that dead body at?" Charlie announced as he stopped his bike with a spray of sand.

"Watch where you spray that sand!" Kurt growled as he dusted sand off his sweater, "and there is no dead body, he's breathing."

"You didn't check if he was alive before calling?" Charlie shook his head and checked the man's pulse, "he has a pulse, it's slow but it's there."

"I figured out he was alive by looking at him, I can see him breathing," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'd say he was surfing-"

"In this weather?" Charlie quirked a brow.

"Let me finish! But he's also not dressed appropriately," Kurt rolled his eyes, "he's wearing shredded slacks."

Charlie took off his parker, "Help me get him into this before he freezes to death.

"Anyone who washes onto beaches topless but who isn't dressed for surfing or swimming isn't someone I want to touch with my bare hands," Kurt held his hands up in surrender. Kurt watched as Charlie leaned over and moved one arm into a sleeve, when he turned the man over to get the man's other arm into the parker but he jumped back like he'd been bitten, "is he hurt?"

"You will not believe who this is," Charlie bounced excitedly as he zipped up the parker.

"Is it Miley Cyrus?" Kurt asked facetiously, rolling his eyes.

"It's Bruce Banner!"

"Bruce Banner?" Kurt moved closer and the moment he saw the man face up, his friend's claims were confirmed, "Holy shit, it's Bruce Banner! But he's been missing for months."

"And here he is," Charlie grinned, "help me carry him."

Kurt took a deep breath, "I'm going to do something but you have to promise not to lose all your shits."

"My shits are staying exactly where they are," Charlie rolled his eyes, "Focused on one of the smartest men in history, an Avenger in my town."

"We're taking him to my house," Kurt moved closer and bent his knees, "Lift from your knees." Kurt mumbled to himself as he lifted the man and held him over one shoulder, the words a thin veil hiding the reality.

"Oh my gosh," Charlie bounced on the spot, "you should join the wrestling team."

"I recently wrote a long list of things that aren't happening," Kurt rolled his eyes as they walked down the beach, "That's somewhere near the top."

"How are you doing this?"

Kurt shrugged, "I exercise?"

Charlie bounced around him, "what is your work out regiment?"

"Great genetics, Ballet, Krav Maga," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I get the feeling that you're not buying that I'm in great shape."

"Not really," Charlie shook his head.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "this feels a lot like you losing your shits."

"Okay," Charlie nodded sternly, "maybe I misplaced my shits temporarily but you don't know what this means."

Kurt opened the gate and moved into his back yard from the beach, "You're going to ask me a lot of very uncomfortable questions."

"What? No," Charlie smiled broadly, "we didn't find each other by chance, it was like destiny or something."

"If you tell me you're in love with me then you can't come into my house," Kurt chuckled as he moved Dr Banner from one shoulder to the other so he could open the kitchen door.

"No," Charlie chuckled, "but have you never wondered how I'm so good as so many sports? I'm on the football, soccer and field hockey teams, I play tennis, I swim, run track, take part in field, and I'm a kick ass gymnast."

"You dismissed my question this morning so I let it go," Kurt shrugged.

"I'm a mutant," Charlie explained, "I can imitate any physical activity I see."

"What does that even mean?" Kurt quirked a brow.

"I learned to play tennis by watching Serena Williams," Charlie explained.

"That's pretty cool," Kurt smiled as he laid Dr Banner on the couch, "I can't think of anyone better to watch in order to become a badass tennis God."

"I know right," Charlie high-fived himself.

"Do you know how to dance just like Beyoncé?" Kurt twirled on the spot.

"I'm not answering that," Charlie looked around nervously, "I've actually never been in your house."

"Haven't you?" Kurt's voice hit a high pitch on the last syllable.

"Does this have anything to do with how you can you lift a man larger than you are?" Charlie poked his sides.

"A little," Kurt smiled politely.

"Or is it more to do with why you moved here?" Charlie prodded him.

"I'm going to go get some towels so you can dry him," Kurt stopped at the door, "Maybe some PJs and crank up the thermostat."

"I'm going to stand here and do nothing," Charlie nodded to himself, "bask in the beauty of this interior decorating."

Kurt left the room and screamed internally; Bruce Banner was in his lounge but, on the other end of the spectrum, Charlie now knew a little bit too much about him and Kurt wasn't sure whether he could trust him. Kurt grabbed guest towels and a blanket from the linen cupboard, he grabbed a pair of his father's pyjamas and on his way back into the living room he turned up the heat.

"You know," Charlie chuckled to himself as he took the towels from Kurt, "I just can't imagine this guy tearing apart one of Africa's largest cities, he looks like someone's dad."

"He looks like someone's DILF," Kurt mumbled as he laid-out the pyjamas.

"What?" Charlie stopped drying Dr Banner

"If you're into that kind of thing," Kurt blushed and looked away.

"Which apparently," Charlie guffawed this time, "you are."

"I'm going to go make some tea," Kurt smiled to himself, "What kind would you like?"

"You have any of that cranberry stuff?" Charlie asked as he helped the man out of his rags, "I'm not that big on tea."

"Yes," Kurt grinned as he pulled the box of tea from the cupboard, "What would you like with yours?"

"What do you have?" Charles smiled as he helped the man into the fleece pyjamas, "Are these seahorses?"

"I like cute pyjamas," Kurt shrugged from the kitchen.

"I thought these were your dad's," Charlie shuddered.

"They are but I bought them," Kurt explained, he leaned into the lounge, "we have blueberry muffins, bagels and shortbread."

"Would it be selfish of me to ask for all three?" Charlie leaned against the counter.

"It would be," Kurt nodded to himself.

"I'll have a muffin with a side of the truth," Charlie grinned.

"I was in the moment," Kurt shrugged, "I love _Summertime Sadness_ that much, that's why I fell."

"Cute but no," Charlie towered over him as he poured the tea.

"Then what truth are you alluding to?" Kurt snapped as he handed his friend a cup of tea.

"What can you do?" The boy took a seat at the breakfast bar and took a large bite out of the muffin, "how can you do it?"

"How can I do it? It's in my DNA," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I told you, and you saw me lift Dr Banner."

Charlie shook his head, "that was only the tip of the iceberg. What DNA is that?"

"My real dad is Steve Rogers and I inherited his super soldier powers," Kurt let out a laboured breath.

"You have got to be shitting me," Charlie clapped his hands excitedly.

"Of course I'm shitting you," Kurt rolled his eyes with gave a small smile, "He was a human popsicle when I was born, it's alien DNA."

"You're not funny," his shoulders slumped but perked up just as quickly, "what kind of Alien are you? You don't look alien."

"I assume there are a variety of ways that aliens can look," Kurt shrugged, "but I'm an alien hybrid."

"Of?"

"Kree," Kurt gave a small smile. The boy across from him's mouth hung open, "there are more alien races than the one that invaded."

"Dr Banner is behind you," Charlie squealed.

"Are these seahorses?" the man asked as with a small chuckle.

"I buy my dad's pyjamas," Kurt shrugged.

"Where am I?"

Charlie quirked a brow, "Southern Alaska?"

"Are you asking me?" Dr Banner retorted.

"It was meant to be a statement," Charlie shrunk like a violet.

"So," Kurt smiled, "Dr Banner, would you like some tea?"

"Do you have anything without caffeine?" he chuckled, "so, the Kree are an alien race?"

"Intergalactic empire," Kurt added, "my mother was a sleeper agent, she violated her oath when she married my dad, a crime for which she was tried and executed; high treason."

"So you're like a super strong alien?" Charlie bounced in his seat excitedly.

"In part," Kurt nodded as he handed Dr Banner his tea, "it's rooibos, caffeine free."

Charlie furrowed his brow, "What does that have to do with Thor?"

"What?" Dr Banner looked back and forth between the two, "Thor?"

"We moved here when Thor appeared in New Mexico," Kurt explained when he took his seat, "because it might have compromised my father's self-imposed exile."

"Exile from where?" Charlie's grin stretched from ear to ear.

"Asgard," Kurt sipped his tea, "Ever hear of Váli?"

"A son of Odin and Rindr," Dr Banner began to explain, "born with the sole purpose of killing Höðr as revenge for his accidental murder of Baldr."

"Cool," Charlie grinned like a kid in a candy store.

"When your single purpose for existence has been carried out but you still have all eternity left to live," Kurt shrugged. He slowly sipped his tea, "He came here to start a new life, or have a life."

"He must be something," Dr Banner shook his head, "aged to maturity in one day just so you can kill someone, how is he?"

"He's better," Kurt gave a weak smile, "he doesn't scream in the night anymore."

Charlie got to his feet, "Thor is like your alien uncle."

"interdimensional," Kurt corrected.

"So your abilities are somewhere near those of Thor," Dr Banner's smile nearly matched Charlies.

Kurt shook his head, "Thor's powers are amplified by Mjölnir, I don't have anything that fancy."

"Now I have to ask," Dr Banner leaned forward, "how did I come to be here?"

"You washed up on the beach on my way home," Kurt explained, "based on how you were dressed I suspect that you must have been in your Hulk state recently because you were just wearing a set of oversized and wrecked pants."

"And you just brought me back here?" the man shook his head, "you're not afraid I'll destroy your house? Or eat you?"

"Does the Hulk eat people?" Kurt furrowed his brow.

"I've never read anything about it," Charlie scoffed.

Dr Banner nodded his head slowly, "what if I attacked you?"

"I think I can take you in a fight," Kurt grinned, "I'm a Krav Maga master, the green guy might be a challenge though."

"I read somewhere that being punched by The Hulk is like being hit with a bus," Charlie nodded excitedly.

"I was once hit by a car," Kurt shrugged, "I had to run home without being seen because I've never seen a doctor before and I don't want to freak anyone out by having four kidneys or a heart with three chambers."

"Your heart has three chambers?" Charlie squealed excitedly.

"I've never had an echocardiogram," Kurt shrugged, "it could have twelve for all I know."

"Dr Banner," Charlie pointed to the man.

"Not a medical doctor," he and Kurt chorused.

"Also, please call me Bruce," he sighed. He turned to Kurt and quirked a curious brow.

"You have a PhD in Nuclear Physics from Caltech," Kurt shrugged, "but you have at least three other postgraduate degrees from three different top tier schools."

"Kurt is amazing at research," Charlie grinned, "ask him anything."

"Anything?"

"Not anything," Kurt shook his head.

"How many known isotopes of vibranium are there?" Dr Banner smiled.

"Technically there are two known naturally occurring isotopes," Kurt answered, "and one artificial isotope." The two stared at him, "I read in my spare time."

"What is it you read?" Bruce quirked a brow.

"We've read every one of the released SHIELD files," Charlie boasted, "Kurt does additional research where he can so that we can understand as much as possible."

"It started out as me trying to see if anyone was onto us," Kurt shrugged, "but it's actually pretty interesting stuff."

"That's admirable," Bruce smiled, "especially in people as young as you two."

Charlie's shoulders slumped, "We don't always understand what they mean but we geared our school subjects for it."

"Maths is so hard," Kurt groaned, "I think moving here might have made me into a nerd."

"You weren't always a nerd?"

"I used to be a different kind of nerd," Kurt shrugged, "I used to be a theatre nerd but when the possibility for us to be found was put onto the table and I moved somewhere with nothing to do, my interests evolved."

"How do you go from singing show tunes and performing in Cabaret to reading about the earths underbelly?" Bruce smirked.

"I was never in Cabaret," Kurt giggled, "I did play Jesus in a community theatre production of Godspell."

"How does that translate?" Bruce tilted his head curiously.

"Do you know how many solos Jesus had in that play?" Kurt mirrored the man's body language, "Do you know how many musicals I have memorised? How many Shakespearean soliloquies I know?"

Bruce shook his head, "you have a good memory, hence knowing all this stuff but hating math."

"You don't remember math," Kurt shook his head, "you know it. I don't know it."

"Yet you still got a good enough mark in Pre-Calc to get into AP Calculus BC," Charlie scoffed.

"Says the guy who was in AP Calculus last year," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I only ended up in the classes I was in because there aren't as many Art classes here and I'd already taken all the ones you do have." Kurt let out a tired breath, "that's only a half truth, I was a different person before the world changed. Before people flying, throwing busses and the such became the norm; I wanted different things from life, now I don't know what I want."

"I lectured," Bruce confessed, "Before the accident, I was a research fellow before I received my funding from the desert base." He let out a tired laugh, "I taught Intro to Physics at some forgettable university."

There was an amicable silence as they thought of how their lives had changed in the time since their catalysing incidences; their origin stories were different and the narrative as to how they had gotten to this point in their lives had no parallel; Kurt had been born with his abilities but something very ordinary had catalysed his journey, Charlie too had been born with his abilities but it seemed he didn't have a catalyser, and Bruce had received his abilities in his attempt to make the world a better place. Kurt thought of the year since he and his father had moved north; the New Directions had gotten tired of trying to keep in contact with him, they had since gone to nationals without him and lost, and their live had gone on; his life in Lima was now only in his past.

"My life was beginning," Kurt let out a tired sigh, "I had just met this cute boy from private school, I'd just had my first kiss and there was this really hot guy who was new to the school who might have been interested in me." He reclined in his seat, "I was finally getting somewhere in the life I had, in that moment there were so many ways my life could have gone but now my life is going an entirely different direction."

"You think that's bad?" Charlie chuckled, "This has been my life, I didn't end up here because things didn't work out the way I liked, I didn't have a life that was blossoming- I was born here." He shook his head, "you two had lives before your abilities and despite your abilities; you don't have origin stories, you have stories. When I found out about my gift, I had to question whether I could still play sport.

My whole life I'd been good at sport but was it cheating to carry on playing at ultimate level when I knew I had gotten that way by watching sport on TV?" Charlie smiled broadly, "but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I was still working hard. I acquired the skill, yes, but my gift didn't tell me when and how to use those skills or give me the muscle mass necessary to follow through; I was great and I put in the work necessary to be great." Charlie leaned against Bruce, "my life was pretty cool before the sky opened up, but it isn't a life I'd go back to."

Kurt nodded, "I think having to apply to college is creating a dichotomy within me; what I've wanted all my life versus what I want right now."

"My crisis is between what my parents think is best for me and what I want," Charlie slumped over in his seat, "I just don't know what it is I want to pose as a counter offer."

"You don't have to make a choice right now," Dr Banner shrugged, "Take it from me, I didn't decide what I was doing my PhD in for three Masters degrees. I didn't have anyone telling me what to study and I didn't really know what I wanted to do specifically but I felt I had to do something." Dr Banner stretched, "don't fall for that trap, take your time; I read somewhere that if you're alive now you have the potential to live till you're a hundred and fifty, that's without the whole being a demigod thing Kurt has going on- don't make decisions for the next hundred and thirty years rashly, and don't think you can't change your mind at any point and as many times as you like during the next hundred and thirty years."

Kurt thought about what he was being told, but it wasn't what he wanted to think about right now, "What's your plan?"

"I'm a Nuclear Physicist," Bruce furrowed his brow.

Kurt chuckled, "I mean, you've been off the grid since you guys destroyed Nova Grad two months ago." Kurt leaned in toward the confused man, "are you just blowing in the wind or do have a plan?"

"My plan is to keep the green guy under lock and key," Bruce shrugged, "beyond that I have nothing else planned; the other Avengers are probably still dealing with the fall out of what I did in Sokovia."

"What you all did," Kurt corrected, "was save people's lives, it might not have worked out idyllically but you're a hero and you can't let anyone take that from you."

"I wish it was that easy to believe," the man gave tired and broken chuckle.

"The thing about this is the way you look at it," Charlie rested an assuring hand on the older man's shoulder, "You can think about how the world sees you or the way you see you." Kurt watched his friend clap his hands, "check my flow, Kurt sees me as his goofy sidekick with the laughing and the weird long limbs and the being super excitable. I see myself as the protagonist; with my Denzel Washington good looks, my athletic and academic prowess," he chuckled to himself, "I'm practically a Mary-Sue."

"You could be delusional like Charlie," Kurt shook his head, "but you were right about the Denzel looks, killing it." Kurt and Charlie high-fived each other, "Some people will see you as a monster, others will see you as a hero. I think you're a hero, Charlie practically wet himself when you washed up on the beach, I'm sure the ladies love a cutie like you."

Bruce chuckled nervously, "it doesn't really work with the ladies."

"Well," Charlie picked up the baton, "we know the men love you, ask Kurt."

"What am I being asked?" Kurt crossed his arms.

A malevolent grin flashed across Charlie's face, "nothing, not you."

~0~

Kurt sat at the head of the dinner table opposite his father, the man stared him down but Kurt didn't flinch, "Did you for a second consider what bringing him here would mean for us?" Kurt was silent, "Did you think about the fact that when they come looking for him, they'll find us?"

"Nobody is looking for us, they're looking for him," Kurt scoffed, "and when they find him, they'll be too distracted by Dr Banner to care about an old man and his son."

"Yes," Burt shook his head, a tired breath escaping from his lips, "a man who is very old Kurt."

"Your papers have been updated recently," Kurt argued.

"Yes," his father agreed, "but the people who are looking for him have advanced technology and will run our faces through the system, mine will flag identities dating as far back as files have been digitally logged."

"You're a little old," Kurt's voice quivered, "I'm sure nobody cares, it's not against the law to be old, believe me because I've checked."

"Asgard is too close to Midgard right now," His father's voice shook, "you know what those people did to me and I don't want to expose you to them."

"Why are you so sure that they would take you back with them?"

His father let out a tired chuckle, "because we all know how this ends."

"How do you mean?" Kurt asked, his brow furrowed.

"Ragnarok," Burt Hummel was tired, you could hear it in his voice, "when everyone and all of Asgard has been destroyed, I am destined to unite with my surviving brothers to rebirth the All Father." He leaned back in his seat, "without me Asgard cannot be born again."

"You know of your death?"

"In a manner of speaking," his father nodded, "I too would be reborn but this life would be gone, I would not remember the time I had with your mother or you."

Kurt thought about what he was hearing, "I think there's a large leap between having a house guest to the Asgardian apocalypse."

"Kurt," his father's voice was low.

"Stop saying my name like that," Kurt shook his head, mirroring his father, "I made a decision, isn't that how we do things?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You never consulted me or confided in me," Kurt snapped, "Mom told me everything about the Kree Empire and their culture. She told me they would find her, put her on trial and execute her." He bit on his bottom lip, "When I watched them kill her I knew that everything we had done had been with purpose, she told me how to survive them."

"I don't know what you want me to say," his father got to his feet.

"You were wrong to keep me in the dark about Asgard," Kurt shouted back, "you were wrong not to consult me about the move and you are wrong if you make me ask Dr Banner to leave."

"Watch your tone," his father snapped, "I act in the best interest of this family."

Kurt slammed his fist on the table, "And I act in the best interest of my sanity."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I had a life," Kurt snapped, "I was a person, had my shit together." He scoffed, "you didn't take that into consideration when you picked up my life and moved me to a school that was going an entirely different direction from where my life was going." His father moved to speak but didn't make a sound, he nodded, "Just let him work at the garage, he's proficient enough to pick up the work and you've been looking for a new apprentice."

"Why do you need him?"

"I don't need him," Kurt shook his head, "I need something to fill the void." His hands were shaking, "I have tried to fill my life; it created my need to go to the lengths I go to in everything I do, I was an amazing dancer in Oakland, a better performer in Lima and now I'm the king of the geeks but the one constant is the fact that my life has been empty since they let me go."

His father tried to reach out to him but the table was too large, "I'm sorry but every day and everything I've done since you came back alone has been to protect you."

"I can throw a car across a football field," Kurt chuckled, "I don't need as much protection as you would like to think I do."

"Your mother could do the same and they killed her," his father's face was stony.

"They let me go," Kurt gave a reassuring smile, "the Kree Empire doesn't want me, I haven't broken any oaths to them, nobody is looking for me; I'm impure, I don't qualify for imperial conscription."

"I don't want to lose you," his father sounded more broken than tired.

"I'm so much stronger than she was," Kurt growled.

"No matter how strong you are," his father shook with every word, "I could still lose you."

"If we don't have a healthy relationship then you will lose me," Kurt wiped away his tears, "regardless of what happens, I will leave you." Kurt stretched his hand out to reach out to his father, "How we treat each other will determine whether or not I return."

"I guess this means we're going to have to work on things from here," Burt smiled as he reached out for Kurt's hand, "but if your friend destroys my house then I will not be a happy camper."

* * *

 **Let me know what you think! Reviews are Love... or hate, or indifference.**


	2. Chapter 2 of Phase 1

**A/n: Some clarifying information; this is set in the extended Marvel Cinematic Universe (All the movie, Jessica Jones, Daredevil, Agents of Shield, all of it). I will make use of things I know from the comics and sometimes use that over the movies but it is primarily set in the MCU.**

 **I have decided to include X-men in the universe, it felt right.**

 **This story will come out in phases (not to match the movies), because I like to have defined steps and accomplishable goals.**

 **Disclaimer (because I forgot to put one into the first chapter): I don't own the MCU or Glee, I'm just having fun (read stress).**

* * *

"What am I supposed to do while you're at school?" Bruce took a bite of his toast, giving Kurt the puppy dog face, "You don't have television and if I learned anything from my recent past, it's to stay far away from computers." The man tussled his curls and laid his head on the breakfast bar, "Should I sleep all day?"

"That's cute," Kurt's breath caught in his throat at his own words, he powered through it, "I found you a job."

"You found me a job?" Bruce smiled, "I haven't had a job in years."

"It's more of an apprenticeship," Kurt admitted, correcting himself.

Bruce scoffed, "it's more than I've been able to get."

"It's my father's garage," Kurt gave a shy smile, "I barely had to do anything." Kurt was wilting under the flattery, "but I'm sure you heard the shouting last night."

Bruce wilted as well at Kurt's words, "I did, about that-"

"Don't," Kurt shook his head, "while you might feel responsible for what transpired between my father and I last night, I want you to know that isn't true; that fight had been a long time coming."

"I wish there was something I could do to help," Bruce shrugged, "I can't help feeling like this is my fault."

"You can help it," Kurt smiled, adjusting his hair even though it didn't need it, "you don't have to take responsibility for everything that happens around you, ever hear of correlation and causation?"

"So there's nothing I can do?" the puppy dog look was back.

"There is one thing you can do," Kurt grabbed a slice of toast and nudged the older man's shoulder "please don't destroy anything today." Kurt kissed his father, who was standing in the doorway, on the cheek, "please be nice."

"No promises," the men chorused as he left through the back door.

Kurt's travel to school was the polar opposite of the previous day's; the sun was shining and the wind wasn't as biting, he was skipping merrily rather than trudging through the sand, and his mind was focused on the future instead of holding on to the past. He was liberated, it felt as if he had opened the curtains in the metaphorical room of his life; in the new light everything seemed brand new.

"You're glowing," Charlie teased him.

Kurt shrugged, "I feel brand new."

"Why?" Charlie raised a malevolent brow, "did you have cucumber for breakfast?"

Kurt stopped in his tracks, "you're disgusting!"

"How is that disgusting?" Charlie slung his arm over Kurt's shoulder, "Sex is a natural part of human life and it seems to be doing you well, even if it is just oral."

"I have not altered my diet in any way," Kurt snapped in responce.

Charlie shook him, "you're one of those people who won't put in your mouth on the first time, Kurt I trusted you."

"I have not had sexual relations with Bruce Banner," Kurt hissed at his friend.

Charlie grinned, "yet. Besides, when Bill said that he didn't consider oral to be sex."

"Why are you this person?" Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Let's be honest," Charlie's grin stretched from ear to ear, "you love this person."

"I have been letting you keep your life," Kurt tugged playfully on the boy's cheek.

"Are you trying to rip my face in two?" Charlie half shouted, "because you're tugging a little hard."

Kurt let go, "did you see the news this morning?"

"Aliens," Charlie nodded to himself, "why is it that the day after you confess to being one, they're suddenly everywhere?"

"What are the chances that there would suddenly be an influx of human looking aliens, unprompted?" Kurt countered.

"You don't look that alien," Charlie shrugged.

Kurt shrugged, "I'm not that alien."

"You don't look like an alien," Charlie clarified, "So maybe it's the Kree or whatever."

"The Kree naturally have blue skin," Kurt explained, "My mother had to regularly dose herself with nitrogen to keep from turning into a smurf."

"Well," Charlie got a wicked grin on his face, "do you want to cut school and see what else we dig up about these non-alien aliens?"

"Probably just that the mutant population is growing," Kurt countered, "Soon, you'll outnumber humans and they'll go extinct."

"That is morbid as hell," Charlie shuddered, "My parents are humans."

"I'm sorry you don't understand how evolution works," Kurt leaned up against his friend's shoulder, "A large part of leaping forward genetically, is the extinction of your predecessors. That's why you don't see Homo sapiens idaltu or Homo neanderthalensis roaming around, they were wiped out by Homo sapien sapien." Kurt's smile grew, "but cutting school does sound like fun."

"Are you finally agreeing to a ditch-day?" Charlie beamed.

"Turn now before I lose my cool," Kurt spoke between gritted teeth.

In one swift movement that Kurt would have expected only from a dancer, Charlie swivelled Kurt on his heels and they were heading away from school. Kurt's blood went cold when Ms Daniels' silver Honda hatchback passed them going in the wrong direction, she rolled down the window and waved.

"Don't worry," Charlie tried to be assuring, "she won't say a thing."

"And how do you know that?" Kurt squealed, trying to fight his friend's grip.

"I do know that; because she would never rat on you, you're her favourite student," Charlie's voice was soothing, which put Kurt on edge.

"That can't be right," Kurt shook his head and, in that moment, shook off the feeling of unease, "I've only been around for a year, and some of you have been at the school since freshman year."

"You can't fight the facts though."

Kurt stopped walking, his mouth opened and closed for a moment before the words finally came, "I've never been any teachers favourite, adults generally don't like me."

"That is true," Charlie admitted, "but Bruce took to you like a fish to water."

"Yes," Kurt nodded, "we really get on like a house on fire."

"Is he going to be at your house?" Charlie beamed.

Kurt shook his head, "No."

"You guys asked him to leave?" Charlie paled, "I would have at least tried with my parents if I'd known, sure they would have said no but he wouldn't be out in the world on his own."

"We didn't ask him to leave," Kurt rolled his eyes at how dramatic his friend was being; Kurt never thought he would be the one to think someone else was dramatic- other than Rachel Berry, who managed to make occasion for it no matter the situation- and had to hold back a laugh. Charlie had a confused look on his face, "I felt that if he was staying with us indefinitely then he needed to have something to do with his time."

"You mean other than beating it up like a rented mule?" The boy made a crude gesture.

"Firstly, you don't rent a mule, you lease it; the insurance is always better on a lease," Kurt shook his head, "secondly, that idiom is about fighting."

"I have my own listed response," Charlie crossed his arms, "Firstly, how do you know what the most efficient way of acquiring a mule for the short run is? Secondly, you know what I mean."

"They mentioned it on Archer and I got curious," Kurt shrugged, "And I really don't know what you mean."

"I'm talking about how Dr Banner is going to bend you over those lovely granite counters and-"

"I don't want to hear anymore," Kurt held up a silencing hand, "it's just weird hearing you say it. Do you often think about how men are going to… _Fornicate Under the Consent of the King_ me?"

Charlie was quiet for a moment, "more than the healthy amount." He shrugged, "but let's focus how you just used the false etymology of 'fuck' rather than just saying the word."

"My problem isn't with saying fuck," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I just don't like using it in that context, it's so crude."

"Since Bruce is living with you," Charlie grinned, "do you just have a reserve Red Lobster fund?"

Kurt giggled, "that fund has nothing to do with Bruce, it's for my personal use in the case of a really great emergencies." Kurt guffawed boisterously, "solid Beyoncé reference."

Kurt opened the door and let Charlie in, the boy moved to throw himself onto the couch but a reproachful look from Kurt in the foyer saw him gently sitting on the couch, "I'm a little afraid of you, I legit think you would murder me of I mistreated your couch- and that's before the super strength."

"It's not super strength," Kurt blushed, "it's pretty normal for my species, superhuman would be a more accurate description."

"What are your hobbies outside of correcting me?" Charlie sulked as he pulled out his MacBook.

"I alter and repurpose my own clothes," Kurt shrugged, "Get the spider going, I'm going to get my laptop."

"I probably will have found everything we're looking for by the time you manage to boot that thing up," Charlie teased him.

"I'm not sure whether that was you hyping your own programming skills, or you taking a dig at my computer," Kurt called out across the house.

"A little bit of both," Kurt could hear the smarmy grin in Carlie's voice.

"My laptop serves the purpose for which I bought it," Kurt countered, "I can watch all the series I like and I can shop online." Kurt fell onto the couch beside his friend, "when I bought it I didn't need it to do more. I ahev extended its duties recently but it hasn't let me down yet."

"You clearly don't need any encryption," the boy teased as he flicked the post-it stuck on the left hand corner of Kurt's screen, "Why do you have your password on there?"

"In case my dad needs to use it," Kurt explained, "I'm also not interesting enough for someone to want to break into my house just to get onto my laptop; it's mostly pictures of clothes and my Netflix queue."

"I am sure your internet history is quite interesting," Charlie teased.

"In what year?" Kurt furrowed his brow, "Incognito is my standard browser mode, the only thing on my internet history is my dad asking google if Blue Ivy is a new drug."

"Having only met your father yesterday when he kicked me out so you could have a chat," Charlie's grin was growing as he spoke, "I think he's a pretty cool guy; wants to know if you're on drugs, wears seahorse pyjamas, is immortal, and look at this décor!"

"I decorated this house," Kurt corrected, "but my father can be a pretty cool guy." Kurt heard keys at the door, trying to get it unlocked, "a pretty cool, dead guy."

Kurt moved quickly and opened the door causing Bruce to stumble into the foyer, "What are you doing here?"

"I have to study the safety manuals and learn the names of all the tools," Bruce answered quickly, "Your father said I didn't have to hang around the garage just to read, probably because I look ridiculous."

"He said you look ridiculous," Kurt gasped.

"My words, not his," Bruce clarified.

"Those chinos are white and a few sizes too small," Charlie offered "Pairing them with a flannel shirt just exacerbates how strange this look is."

"Which is why I laid out a seafoam oxford to match them better, the belt and shoes were going to tie the whole thing together," Kurt explained, "And the pants are champagne."

"I didn't think your shirt would fit me, these pants barely fit me," Bruce admitted, "I really need to get my own clothes."

"The shirt, like the one you're wearing, was my dad's. The pants fit perfectly, they're slim fit," Kurt huffed, "I'm sure champagne goes better with green, but please do have fun shopping for aubergine dress parachute pants."

"Look, not that I don't appreciate your clothing choices but they aren't really right for me. They look great on you, I'm just-" Bruce let out a tired sigh, "what's the right thing for me to say right now?"

"Nothing, you've said more than enough," Kurt said coldly, "go read your little safety manuals and learn the names of the tools you'll be working with."

"You two just skipped honeymoon and went straight for passive-aggressive old married couple," Charlie teased after Bruce disappeared down the hallway.

"You be quiet and tell me what the internet says about the aliens," Kurt snapped.

"Hey," Charlie whined as he did as he was told, "Why you mad at me? I'd wear whatever you picked out for me."

"I know," Kurt slumped into the couch, "but he called my clothes ridiculous, that hurts."

"I think given that it was his first day working as a mechanic's apprentice, the choice wasn't the best," Charlie explained, "I'm not saying his word choice wasn't problematic, but I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt; I don't think the dudes ever had a wife."

"I am not his wife," Kurt huffed.

"You're filling a very distinct role in his life right now. It was either wife or mother," Charlie shrugged, "the latter would have made things awkward later."

"I knew he was going to be reading the whole day and I picked an outfit he would be comfortable in but still look professional," Kurt explained, "I'm sorry if my kindness isn't received in the spirit with which it was intended."

"You should tell him that," Charlie shrugged.

" _I_ will decide when I next speak to him and what I say to him," Kurt snapped, he crossed his arms and glared at his friend, "Don't think being a good friend and giving sagely advice will make me forget that you haven't given me an update on the information we're searching for."

"The spider says that the information we're looking for is on the SHIELD mainframe," Charlie explained, "Super encrypted, even the file name is redacted from this point of view. It is showing me a backdoor through the Stark Industries servers, but this fire wall is fire."

Kurt nodded for a moment, "I'm going to go fix things with Bruce."

"Okay," Charlie shrugged, "you think now is the time to do that? While I have one foot in the stark fire wall from hell?"

"Yes."

Charlie shook his head, "I'm going to be here, trying not to get arrested for corporate espionage."

Kurt walked to the guest room, he knocked and waited to be invited in but there was no response. Kurt made the executive decision to enter without invitation, "Bruce?" Kurt looked around but there was no sign of the scientist, "Bruce!" Kurt walked through the room to where the room opened up onto the back porch where the man was reclined on the hanging chair with Kurt's spare headphones on his head, "Dr Banner."

Kurt giggled as the man fell out of the seat, flailing in astonishment, "don't sneak up on people like that."

"Don't put the headphones on the loudest when there are people in the house," Kurt scolded, "I called your name at least a hundred times." Kurt helped the man to his feet, "Isn't it a little chilly to be in just a wife beater? Also a little too early to be listening to _Already Gone_ , you weren't planning on leaving because we argued over a pair of pants, were you?"

"Kelly Clarkson touches my soul," Bruce admitted with a slight blush.

"I know the feeling," Kurt nodded. He stiffened, "about the clothes-"

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," Bruce interjected.

"I was being overly sensitive," Kurt gave a shy smile, "they didn't seem pragmatic to you, whereas I knew all you'd be doing is reading."

"Oh," Bruce flushed.

"Now," Kurt grinned, "Would like to take a break from reading to help us hack into Stark Industries?"

"I think your dad wants me to have these rules committed to memory before work tomorrow," Bruce shrugged.

"They're the same as lab safety rules," Kurt explained, "You'll be fine, let's go hack a little."

"Why do you want to hack into Stark Industries?" Bruce furrowed his brow.

"We want to use it as a back door into SHIELD," Kurt explained.

"Why do you want to get into SHIELD?" Bruce asked as he allowed himself to be led into the lounge, "Shouldn't you been in school?"

"Those two things aren't related," Charlie said without looking up from the computer, "but we want to know more about these aliens, our spider, root kit, Trojan horse says that's where we'll find what we're looking for."

"You are some weird kids," Bruce shook his head as he started working from Kurt's laptop, "shouldn't you be trying to buy cigarettes and getting varsity jackets to impress each other, racing cars and making fun of each other behind each other's backs?"

"That's basically the plot of Grease," Kurt couldn't help giggling, "you don't want to know if we should be cheating on Aron Samuels in the projection room above the auditorium?"

"Solid _Mean Girls_ Reference," Charlie fist bumped him.

"Both are technically outdated references to teen culture," Kurt tussled the older man's hair, "surprise bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of this generation."

"Here's the sitch Melody Bostic," Charlie countered, he took a moment to laugh at his own terrible Emma Stone impression, "Our generation is beyond having a single movie define our teen lives, there has been an onslaught of good teen pop culture in our lifetime."

"Because you're all in this together?" Bruce had a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face, clearly impressed with himself.

"Please tell me that smile is because you got past the fire wall and not for that pathetic High School Musical reference," Charlie shook his head, trying to stifle a laugh.

"What can we say if the man believes in dreaming," Kurt smirked at his friend, "shooting for the stars?"

"If you stroke each tender gill," Charlie leaned in to whisper into Kurt's ear, "then I'm leaving."

"I'm in," Bruce announced before Kurt could put together a snappy comeback to Charlie's crude remarks.

"I'm going to run the spider again from within their system," Kurt took the computer from Bruce.

Bruce furrowed his brow, "What happens when shield realises you're in their computer systems?"

"Nothing," Kurt smiled, "it looks like a Stark Industries computer is looking at their files."

"What about when Tony denies accessing the files?"

"He would have to admit to being hacked," Kurt explained, "for a company whose bread and butter is propriety information technology goods, a hack would reduce their stock to nothing; if Mr Stark were to find us, he would have great value for our silence."

"Good insurance policy," Bruce nodded as he tried to watch what Kurt was doing over his shoulder.

"Found what we're looking for," Kurt smiled from ear to ear as he scanned the intra-agency report on the matter, "it's an outbreak of superpowered beings."

"Not aliens like the president said?" Charlie quirked a suspicious brow.

"Never believe what you're being told by the Government," Bruce sniggered, "They don't know what's going on in the most part."

"But in this case the president had been given a half-truth," Kurt countered, "according to this, these inhumans are humans who have a dormant gene that is activated by terrigen mist."

"Like dormant mutants?" Charlie furrowed his brow.

"No," Kurt's breath caught, "it's the result of ancient experimentation, the gene is a splice of Kree DNA that is present in some humans."

"What else does it say?" Bruce pressed him.

"They've been around for millennia and the outbreak started a few months back because-" Kurt's thought process was stopped by his own gasp.

"What does it say?" Bruce tried to get a look at the screen over Kurt's shoulder.

"A large dose of the terrigen mist was released into the ecosystem," Charlie nodded to himself, "I don't understand."

"It was released into the ocean," Kurt found his voice again, "it isn't harmful to those who don't have the gene but it will activate every inhuman through ocean products, looks like they curbed the fish oil problem."

"They can just stop people from eating seafood," Charlie shrugged, "that would contain the outbreak to those who've been exposed already."

"it's in the ocean," Bruce begins, "that means that through the natural cycle of water, it'll be transferred into drinking and irrigation water supplies."

"This chemical will soon be in everything we eat and drink," Charlie realised.

"There's no way of avoiding the impending outbreak unless they somehow formulate a vaccine," Kurt extrapolated the thought that was floating between them.

"Considering the way people have reacted to and treated mutants," Charlie swallowed a lump, "I can't understand why whoever is advising the president would want to increase people's paranoia with regard to the people with abilities."

"Because people with abilities have the potential to be dangerous," Bruce's voice was small.

Kurt glared at the man, "mostly to themselves."

~0~

The phone rang a short time after dinner, "I'll get it." Kurt acquiesced when he realised that neither Bruce nor his father were showing any kind of indication that they had any intention of moving. Kurt lifted the receiver, "Hummel Residents, Kurt speaking. How might I be of assistance?"

"Hello Kurt," a female voice that was vaguely familiar came through the receiver, "it's Miss Daniels, I hope I'm not calling at a bad time."

"Not at all," Kurt had a saccharine smile on his face to hide his nerves.

"I saw that you and Mr Scot-Harrison were both absent from school today," her tone was level, comforting yet stern, "I was wondering if this was a matter you would like to discuss with me."

"Not particularly," Kurt tried to keep the malice from his voice, "No."

"Look Kurt," Ms Daniels' voice took on a maternal tone Kurt didn't like, "I understand that growing up is difficult but you shouldn't change who you are for someone else."

"What do you mean?"

"Right now it might seem like boys are then end of the world," the woman explained, "but your life will go on with or without them."

"I don't think we're on the same page," Kurt admitted.

"I read your file and before today, you had never cut school."

"Neither has Charlie," Kurt snapped.

"You don't have to defend your boyfriend, nobody is in trouble," she was trying to assure him but Kurt was certain they weren't in trouble, "but from what I saw, he was leading you away from school."

"He's not my boyfriend," Kurt corrected her, "Charlie and I are just friends."

"I-" her voice caught, "I suppose I misread the situation. I know you two are close and the way he had his arm slung over your shoulder led me to jump to conclusions, I apologise."

"Don't apologise," Kurt sighed, "it was an honest mistake."

Miss Daniels cleared her throat, "May I ask why you cut school today?"

"I couldn't be in that place today," Kurt's voice shook.

"May I ask why?" she gently probed, "maybe there's something I can do to help."

"I don't think there's much you can do to help the situation," Kurt kicked himself for his sloppy wording.

"There's a situation?" Kurt could hear the woman leaning forward in her seat, paying him more attention.

"I think my choice of words might be a tad misleading," Kurt shook his head, "I'm making a mountain of a molehill."

"At a subconscious level there's a reason you chose the wording you chose," she was probing him, Kurt cursed her for using her psychology degrees against him, "please, tell me more."

"I'm just being overly emotional," Kurt trained his voice to the verge of tears, "it's just, recently been the anniversary of the day it happened." Kurt fanned away imaginary tears and sniffed loudly, "I just don't understand why I survived and she didn't? We were in the same car, same accident."

"I see," Kurt could hear the stiffness in Miss Daniels' voice, "And how does Mr Scot-Harrison fit into this."

"Was comforting me during a very emotional patch," Kurt's voice deliberately caught mid-sentence.

"Can we set up a session at my practice," she asked, "I'd like to explore this matter further, if you don't mind. How does Friday after school sound?"

"Fine," Kurt rolled his eyes, "Thank you. Goodbye." Kurt hung up and cursed under his breath.

~0~

"Why are we at the beach?" Bruce asked as he took a seat on the towel Kurt had laid out.

Kurt smiled, "You're the one who wanted me to participate in more teen-like activities, teenagers from the coast go to beach on Saturdays."

"True," Bruce nodded, taking the tube of sunscreen Kurt handed him, "when it's sunny."

"You want to talk about weather appropriateness," Kurt quirked a brow, "On Wednesday you were sitting on the porch in a wife-beater."

"It was almost sunny on Wednesday," Bruce countered.

"But the temperature is higher today," Kurt said with a victorious grin.

"Touché," Bruce shrugged.

"Besides," Kurt smiled as he applied sunscreen to his limbs, "I like the beach on cloudy days."

"Why?"

"The ocean seems more honest like this," Kurt smiled, "the sand isn't as temperamental and the combination of it all reminds me of my mother."

"I hope you don't mind my asking," Bruce began, "but how?"

"She was a very cold woman, brutally honest," Kurt smiled, "You couldn't help being drawn in by her, in her own twisted way she was charming and charismatic."

"She sounds like quite the woman," Bruce said, trying his hand at being comforting.

"She was what I needed her to be," Kurt shrugged, "Growing up with my abilities, I needed a firm voice driving me to master them." Kurt laid back on the towel and looked up at the dense, angry clouds, "it started with her, my drive to do the things I do well. She taught me to be disciplined. When you have as much strength as I do, you have to put some work in order to be gentle enough to pass an ordinary human- I played the piano till I could tickle the ivories into submission, trained in martial arts till I knew how to destroy or preserve the human body; I learned the difference between a firm handshake and a bone crushing grip before I was ten because not everybody has my strength."

"Sounds like a lot to take on as a child," Bruce gave a solemn nod.

"I was more traumatised by the things she told me about the Kree and her duty to the imperial army," Kurt chuckled, "she told me about their history as an empire, the culture and built them to be Gods in my eyes." Kurt couldn't meet the man's gaze, "then she told me about how they became a space faring people by massacring an entire race, and stealing the technology they needed from another race- she turned them from angels into monsters. She often told me that she had broken her pledge to serve the empire by siring me; that her station was made of a line of women, that each generation was supposed to use a preserved specimen of female semen to create the next. The job was passed down from mother to daughter and she had broken that chain by laying with an enemy race, siring a son; she told me that they would come for her because of it."

Bruce looked like he wanted to speak but his words were failing him, "She was right, the Accuser Corps did find her and charge her with failing to follow imperial decree. I watched them shoot her in the head and twice in the chest." Bruce was pale but Kurt continued, "she had trained me to be ready for what I needed to say when they tried to conscript me for the Kree Imperial Army; I told them that I was a half breed and that by Kree laws of patrilineal siring, I was ethnically Asgardian. They let me go."

"I don't know what to say to that," Bruce shook his head, "How do you treat a child that way?"

Kurt giggled, "it was the only way she knew, it was the tradition of child rearing in the Kree Empire; it created the kind of adults they wanted; and it was practical given the circumstances she was facing."

"I don't know," Bruce shook his head angrily, "it's just-"

"It's not right," Kurt explained, "I'm sure she could have taught me the same things in a more child friendly way but you also need to take into consideration that I'm telling the story how I remember it, my mother would probably tell it differently, my father another way, and an impartial observer would see it another way.

"She didn't set out to sell me dream and then destroy them," Kurt smiled, "she just recounted our people's history to me, I'm glad she was honest rather than omitting the truth of the atrocities the Kree Empire committed. I'd still be idolising monsters if she hadn't been honest with me." Kurt laid an assuring hand on the man's tense shoulder, "if she hadn't made me learn to control my strength, I would have hurt people and I wouldn't be able to touch people; I couldn't have learned later but things had to happen the way they did because I was going to be starting school with other children and we were on borrowed time already.

"My mother and I had a beautiful relationship," Kurt continued, "we did other things together that no one else can say they did with their mother, she accepted me for who I was and was my best friend at a time when I had no friends. I remember her fondly, but I also remember my version of her truth; who she was to me."

Bruce let out a heavy sigh, but still something weighed his body down, "That's very mature of you."

"I wasn't always at peace with my past, I harboured a lot of resentment both toward her and myself. I blamed myself for not being born female so she could keep up her pretence, then my father wouldn't have lost the love of his life." Kurt shrugged, "I resented her for being selfish enough to entangle herself in our lives, knowing she would be ripped away from us. I eventually came to find peace in that short period that I had her." Kurt opened the cooler box and handed the man a beer.

"I'm not sure what there is to say about my past," Kurt watched the man drink deeply.

"There is something to be said," Kurt gave an encouraging smile, "on that much we can agree, I recognise that look, I saw it in my father's eyes for sixteen years."

Bruce shook his head, "Kurt-"

"You don't have to talk to me about it," Kurt tried put the man at ease, "you don't have to say anything to anyone but you need to make peace with it." Kurt took Bruce's hand between both of his, "then you can let it go."

Bruce's hand stiffened in Kurt's hands, then it clenched into a fist, "I can't think about it." He shook his head, "I wouldn't be able to keep the other guy in check if I did."

"Maybe you shouldn't be trying to control him," Kurt rubbed small circles the back of the man's hand, slowly coaxing it open, "maybe you should consider embracing him."

"Embrace him?" Bruce scoffed, "Embracing the Hulk? You can't begin to understand the monster you're talking about."

"I can't," Kurt agreed, he held the man's hand tightly in his fingers, "but the hulk is inside you, he's a part of you." Kurt moved closer to the man, "I don't think you're a monster, so I don't think he is either; even if he's made up of the worst parts of you, I think there is good in him."

"You're too much of an optimist," Bruce chuckled.

"You're too willing to believe the worst of yourself," Kurt countered, "Why is that?"

"I know why I believe what I believe," Bruce's voice had an authority that caught Kurt off guard; he knew that tone and it said not to ask any more questions because he had crossed a line.

"I'm sorry if I crossed a line," One of Kurt's hands moved to the man's shoulder but the other held onto the man's hand, "but don't use whatever you believe about yourself as a crutch, don't let it keep you from walking up right."

"I shouldn't have lost my temper with you," Bruce rubbed his eye with his free, "all things considered, it isn't very wise of me."

Kurt laid on his back again, he pulled Bruce's hand onto his chest and the man stared down at him from his sitting position. They both felt Kurt's steady heartbeat through his ribs, "I'm not afraid." His heartbeat was slow and steady, calming, "whether I have one large three chambered heart or ten little twelve chambered hearts, I want you to feel them beating on as normal because as long as you are honest with me I know I have nothing to fear." Bruce stared intensely at him, "I'm not afraid of you, and I'm not afraid of the other guy either."

Bruce laid down beside him, Kurt moved their hands from his own chest to the other man's, "have you not seen the things he-" Bruce's heart sped up for a moment, "we've done, we're a monster."

"Being green, angry or destructive doesn't make you a monster," Kurt countered, "No more than being an alien with superhuman abilities. You were deprived of the opportunity to truly understand and embrace your gift. When they came for you with guns and treated you like a fugitive, when you had to go on the run and live your life in hiding, you were deprived of that moment after your catalysing moment where you make peace with what has happened to you and what you have become as a result."

Bruce gaped at him, "You think he's a gift?"

"Yes," Kurt squeezed the in his, "I think that we can always look at the events in our lives as a blessing or a curse." Kurt turned Bruce to face him, looking directly into the man's tired brown eyes, "I don't know about you but I like to look at the ones that affect the rest of my life as blessings rather than burdensome curses, I like to focus on the silver lining."

"Lining clouds with silver makes them heavy," Burt smirked.

"Heavy clouds bring rain," Kurt countered, "and rain brings life."

There was an amicable silence between them, Kurt stared intently at Bruce; his eyes combing through the man's scruff like his fingers wished they could, learning his facial features and coming to know his face.

"What now?" Bruce's voice snapped Kurt from his stupor.

"Now?"

"How do we begin?"

"We lay here," Kurt flashed a shy smile, "your hand on my heart, and my hand in yours." Kurt and Bruce moved into position, "we close our eyes and let the past, the future and everything other than the beach towel we're laying on melt away. Let every thought melt away, only this moment exists; listen to our hearts as they beat in sync."

Kurt listened to his words and the world around him disappeared; the waves stopped crashing, the wind stopped blowing, and nature was gone. The only sensation on Kurt's skin was Bruce hand in his left hand, on his chest, and Bruce's hand enveloping Kurt's right hand, on his chest. His eyes saw nothing but darkness, the sound was gone except for their heart beats, the smell of the ocean had dissipated and taste in mouth was pure. For that moment they were in a sensory purgatory, outside the living world.

Kurt felt Bruce's hands growing but neither of them moved as this happened, they stayed perfectly still- divorced from their bodies, just two spirits lying next to each other. Kurt noted when the man stopped growing but did not move or react, he remained immersed in their little world.

Kurt opened his eyes and propped his head up on his shoulder and looked into the Hulk's green eyes in the same way he had Bruce's a few moments, "I'm not afraid of you." The Hulk was almost three feet taller than Bruce had been, looked to weigh more than ten times what the man did; Kurt took his significantly larger hand in both of his, as he had done with Bruce's, first bringing it to his chest to feel his steady heart beat and then moving it to the hulk's chest to feel his heart beat. Kurt smiled, cupping the hulks confused face, "I like you when you're angry."

~0~

Kurt raised his head from his dinner at the sound of the doorbell, the three of them exchanged looks but none of them moved, "I'm not doing it." Kurt's voice had a bite of sass, "I can't answer the phones, buy your clothes and get the door; you might get the idea that I work here."

"I thought it was because you were the youngest," his father countered, the door bell ringing in the background, "Would you like to see your aging and ailing father stumbling to get the door?"

"I'll get it," Bruce put down his cutlery.

"No," Kurt snapped, "you're a guest. My father, who hasn't aged a day in millennia, will get the door."

His father put down his cutlery, "why would I do that when I have an able-bodied son?"

"Because I do everything else around here," Kurt's smile had an edge to it, the doorbell still ringing in the background, "would you like to make your own meals or buy your own seahorse pyjamas?"

"You can make all the threats you want but the seahorses are off the table," Burt got up and left the room to open the door.

Bruce flashed Kurt a confused look, "Do you have something to say?"

"No," he shook his head, "I'm good."

"You have a guest Kurt," his father appeared with Charlie beside him.

"I have an idea," Charlie beamed at them.

"Good evening to you too Charlie," Kurt gave the excitable boy a once over, "Have you eaten dinner?"

"I could eat," Charlie's face contorted in confusion.

"I'll get you a plate," Kurt smiled, "Dad, would you get a him a place setting?"

Kurt got up and walked into the kitchen, he wondered what had possessed Charlie to show up at his house this late in the evening. What had been so important that he hadn't been able to wait till tomorrow but the boy could not tell him earlier in school?

Kurt returned to the dining room to find everyone waiting for him in silence, "Bruschetta with prosciutto, swiss chard and feta."

"You made this?" Charlie gawked at him.

"It's toasted bread with cheese, ham and spinach on it," Kurt scoffed, "I didn't cure cancer."

"It is delicious," Bruce smiled at him.

"Don't suck up," Kurt pursed his lips. He turned to Charlie, "you said you have an idea."

"Oh yes," Charlie swallowed food in his mouth before continuing, "it's about the inhumans, I read a lot more of the files SHIELD has on the matter and it appears that they're working with or against this other Government agency called the Advanced Threat Containment Unit to help these inhumans."

"Is this about your little reading and researching project?" his father had the smile of a man who was proud of himself, Kurt loved how his dad tried to be father of the year by knowing what was going on in Kurt's life.

"It's an extrapolation of it," Kurt explained, "we hacked into the new SHIELD to find out about the recent news of aliens."

"SHIELD is still a thing?" his father spluttered, his mind caught up to his panic and the next words were at a volume that was not suitable for the dinner table, "And you hacked into them!"

"Calm down," Kurt rolled his eyes, "we used a back door through Stark Industries which has clearance, no need to raise your voice."

"Why would you do that?" his father was a high-pitched squeal, "What would possess you to hack into Stark Industries to get to SHIELD?"

"I don't know if you heard me saying that the Government was looking for human-passing aliens," Kurt quirked a brow at his father, "I went in to see if I was one of those aliens."

"I thought we went in because we were curious," Charlie furrowed his brow.

"A bit of both," Kurt shrugged. He assumed a more serious demeanour, "now, what is this plan of yours?"

"Can I have some more of this?" Charlie lifted and empty plate.

Kurt furrowed his brow, "Gluttony is a sin."

"You're an atheist," his father countered, "I will get you more Prosciutto."

"Bruschetta," Kurt corrected, "Prosciutto is one of the toppings."

"You know what I mean," his father rolled his eyes.

"I really do but as Charlie pointed out, correcting people is one of my only hobbies," Kurt turned back to the boy in question, "You were saying?"

"We could help them in this corner of the world," Charlie grinned like a kid at Christmas.

"You've lost your mind," Kurt rolled his eyes, "We don't have the resources to complete an operation like that." Kurt looked his friend squarely in the eyes, "We can feed them intelligence but we don't have the means to locate, council, sedate and transport a super powered human."

"My mom's a doctor," Charlie shrugged, "That could help with the sedation part."

"Not if she wants to keep her licence to practice medicine," Bruce countered.

"Son," his father said as he placed a plate in front of the boy, "What do you think SHIELD will do if they start receiving sedated inhumans from undisclosed source?"

"It's not the best plan," Kurt nodded to himself as he tried to see things from Charlie's perspective. He turned to his father and Bruce, "but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. If we can read SHIELD's extraction plan, between the four of us we can replicate it."

"How did your dad become a part of this?" Bruce asked with a furrowed brow, "I know I got roped in when I helped you hack into Stark Industries."

"His skill set is unique and he's very powerful," Kurt reclined in the dining room chair, "he'd be valuable to us."

"You're really doing this," Bruce was flabbergasted.

Kurt nodded his head, "Do you really want more people to go through that terrifying moment when you realised that you aren't like the majority of the population, all alone like you had to?"

"I thought you've always known you were different," Bruce leaned forward.

"Having superhuman abilities isn't the only way I'm different from the majority of the population," Kurt bit his bottom lip and Bruce pursed his in response.

"Are we doing this?" Charlie squealed excited.

Kurt broke his eye contact with Bruce to meet Charlie's gaze and for a moment he caught a glimpse of the sour look on his father's face, "We'll need a restraint that negates the people we capture's powers and we'll need a plan of action but yes, we're doing this."

"I can come up with a schematic that can work with the willing and the unwilling," Bruce acquiesced, "Need some help from your father to get it done soon." The man was unresponsive, "right Burt?"

"Sure," Kurt watched his father nodding to himself.

"Side bar," Kurt glared at his father and nodded to the kitchen, "if you'll excuse us."

Kurt could hear his father's heavier footsteps following him into the kitchen, Kurt pulled himself on to the counter and squared up with his fathers weathered face, "You don't like the idea of working on this."

His father shook his head, "I can't say I do."

"You know," Kurt flashed his father a shy smile, "It's one thing when a brave man stands up and fights but it's something special when a fearful man stands up to defend what is right."

"Who said that?"

"Me," Kurt had a cheeky grin on his face, "Didn't you just hear me saying it?"

"I remember the day I took you to the circus for the first time," his father laboured the breath that followed, "you were fascinated by the trapeze artists and wanted nothing more than to be one of them, I was so afraid you would get hurt, but you dedicated yourself to gymnastics for the next five years because of it." His father let out a sad chuckle, "Every time I watched you fall in the beginning, my heart stopped."

"Daddy," Kurt cupped his father's cheek, "I'm made of the right stuff, I know it's your job to worry about me so asking you to do otherwise would be futile."

"I saw it," his father admitted, "the way you looked at each other."

Kurt's breath caught, "I don't know-"

"I know better than to believe your ignorance," his father's voice was firm.

"I wouldn't patronise you that way," Kurt countered, "I was going to say that I don't know if it really means anything, what it means if it does, or if it's even going anywhere."

"What do you think?"

"I think he makes me feel like the ground I stand on is all there is," Kurt's hand clapped over his mouth and he breathed through his fingers to steady himself.

"That's what it feels like just before you fall," his father teased, "It's not my job to try and stop you, but if he hurts you I will be here to help you pick up the pieces- that's my job."

"You don't think he's too old for me?" Kurt joked.

"It doesn't help that his age makes him comfortable calling me Burt but I was centuries older than your mother when we fell in love," his father shrugged, "I can't judge, I just wish you were falling for someone who hadn't been through as many terrible things as Bruce has; he's broken."

Kurt held his father's hand in both of his, as he had Bruce and the Hulk's hands a few days ago on the beach, "Aren't we all broken?"

* * *

 **I hope you like it; Reviews are love!**


	3. Chapter 3 of Phase 1

**A/n: Response to this story has been overwhelming! I hope you continue to enjoy my work.**

* * *

Kurt watched the man working, his goggles covering most of his face and a look of determination filling the visible portion. Kurt watched in awe at the precision with which Bruce worked, it was evident that the man was doing what he loved in the care he took as he measured and mixed the different chemicals. Kurt was supposed to be working as a lab assistant but he out of his depth, he knew enough chemistry to follow what they were doing and hand Bruce the correct substances or equipment when he asked for it but he didn't know what a polytechnic additive material was or how to make one.

"Please hand me the blow torch," Bruce said, breaking their silence, "Set to two thousand kelvins." Kurt did as he had been instructed to do, he watched in awe as the man superheated the clear liquid till it turned milky and eventually into an opaque white liquid. From what Kurt had read of the composite substance he knew the final product was supposed to be white.

"Is it ready to go into the 3D printer now?" Kurt bounced excitedly.

"No, but we're almost done," Bruce poured the liquid into a cylindrical mould as he spoke, "it needs to cool and then be drawn before we can put it into the printer."

"Well," Kurt shrugged, "When you're ready, the schematics Charlie snatched off the SHIELD website have been loaded into the printer and when the handcuffs have been printed I can help you test them."

Bruce chuckled, "You're cheeky."

"That's not even where I was going with this," Kurt pursed his lips, ran his index finger over the contours of Bruce's faces, "but if that's an offer, I don't know if I can resist."

"That's not what I was saying," Bruce raised his hands in surrender as he moved around the work space, keeping it between them.

"Oh," Kurt caressed the contours of his own face instead, "Now what?"

"Now, we wait," Bruce took a seat and watched the mould.

"Watching composite materials harden is almost as boring as watching paint dry," Kurt said, breaking the man's concentration, "tell me something, something interesting."

"This material will be able to withstand four thousand bars of pressure," Bruce smiled excitedly, "that's almost thirty tons of pressure per square inch."

"Seven elephants per square inch," Kurt nodded. He leaned in closer to the man, "I mean something that is really interesting."

"It's a third of a whale per square inch," the man teased, leaning forward to rest his chin in his palms.

"I'm being serious Bruce," Kurt leaned over the work surface and gave the man's shoulder a playful nudge.

Bruce seemed to think about it for a moment, "my appendix grew back after the first time I turned into the other guy."

"Excuse me?"

"I had my appendix removed when I was younger but now I have one again," Bruce smiled, "I can't explain it, I guess it was part of the whole invulnerability to disease thing."

"Ever considered becoming a serial organ donor?" Kurt chuckled, "Give away a kidney, hulk out, grow a new one?"

"You mean my gamma riddled organs?" Bruce scoffed, "They would either kill people or spread this… thing."

"That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing," Kurt shrugged, "I've met the other guy and he wasn't half bad." Kurt thought back to how he'd laid on the beach with the Hulk's head on his chest as he listened to Kurt's heartbeat for what felt like forever. He smirked, "I think he was kind of cute."

"You should be a politician, with that charm you could rule the world," Bruce teased. He shook his head, "The last thing the world needs is more of the Hulk, that's why I got a vasectomy."

"Nobody wants children, they're awful!" Kurt shuddered for a moment but was overtaken by malevolence, "how sure are you that it hasn't healed?"

"I'm not," Bruce shrugged, a malevolent grin on his face, "but I always take hot baths, wear tight underwear, never stay cool in summer, and I've been trying to put on weight."

Kurt giggled, "you're really dedicated to male infertility."

"A little," Bruce smirked.

"You know," Kurt took Bruce's hand in his own over the table, "just because it was in a Tina Turner song doesn't mean it's an absolute truth."

"I'm sorry," Bruce furrowed his brow and Kurt couldn't help smiling, "I don't follow."

"She said that we don't need another hero," Kurt tilted his head, "she was wrong, the world would be a much better place with more people like you."

"You're just saying that because these guns are amazing!"

They chuckled for a moment, Kurt squared his shoulders, "Can I ask one question?"

Bruce blushed, "I knew this was coming at some point, sure."

"How does the law of conservation of matter apply in this case?" Kurt furrowed his brow, "Because you grow almost three feet and put on more than a ton. Is energy converted to matter, substituted by adrenaline, and then matter is converted back into energy?"

Bruce stared at him, "That is not the question I thought you were going to ask."

"Has no one ever asked you this before?" Kurt gaped at him.

"You be surprised what it is about the other guy that interests people," Bruce scoffed, he gave Kurt's question some thoughts, "I think you're right on the first part; energy is converted into matter and the other guy is fuelled by adrenaline. I do however think that the energy released by the loss of mass mostly dissipates, considering how weak I feel afterward and how I sometimes pass out."

"Giving the other guy a physical would be very interesting," Kurt mused to himself, "Imagine the things we could learn based on his blood and tissue samples, x-rays and general physiology." Kurt shook his head, "I, of all people, understand why that isn't feasible. The things that the medical community has done to its fellow humans in the name of scientific exploration," Kurt shook his head, "people like us are wise to steer clear of them."

Bruce seemed flabbergasted by Kurt's implication, "You think you're like the other guy?"

"I may not have saved the world like you have," Kurt looked the man dead in the eye despite every instinct to look away, "but yes, I think we're simpatico. I think the three of us are cut from the same cloth."

"Oh, wow," the man shook his head.

"Considering that I've met and engaged with the other guy," Kurt pulled all his confidence into his smile, he needed Bruce to see that he truly believed what he was saying, "I think I can make a fair assessment."

Bruce was silent. He let out an exacerbated sigh, "When I said it doesn't work with me and women, I wasn't giving a coded reference to my sexuality, I was speaking from experience." He didn't make eye contact with Kurt, choosing to look down at his hands, "my college girlfriend was there from before the other guy was around. After the experiment he hurt her, I hurt her by making her watch me switch between being the man she loved and a monster. I tried to leave her for her own good but when we found each other again I selfishly held onto her till we reached a breaking point." Bruce met Kurt's gaze, "She wasn't the only one, I'm here because I left someone who had come to rely on me; I hurt her as well."

"Do you think telling me that you have a past will drive me away?" Kurt was blinking too much but he couldn't stop himself, "We all have pasts, I expect that you have a history."

"I'm not telling you that I have a past," Bruce shook his head, his voice made the delicate glass beakers shake, "I'm telling you that I'm no good for you, I'm a monster and I will hurt you."

"I think I get to decide what is and isn't good for me," Kurt snapped. He reached across the table but Bruce pulled his hand away, "if you think you're going to hurt me by leaving me then you are under estimating my resilience. I've been hurt before and I know what it feels like, hurt isn't you walking out of my life. Hurt is words filled with hate spoken with disgust, it's violence because I'm not who you want me to be." Kurt shook his head, his hand still extended toward Bruce, "the closest I've ever gotten to intimacy was with a boy who didn't know whether he wanted to punch me or kiss me. I have very low expectations for my romantic life," Kurt let out a tired chuckle, "and you supersede them exponentially."

"I will hurt you," Bruce whispered.

"And I will heal," Kurt smiled as Bruce put his hand in his, "I'm not afraid of being hurt."

"That's the frightening part," Bruce's hand shook.

"Do you have feelings for me Bruce?"

The older man blushed and Kurt tried his hardest not to blush, "well, it's impossible to know someone and not have feelings for them."

"That's cute," Kurt pursed his lips and glared at him, "But I'm being dead serious." Kurt rubbed lazy circles into the back of the man's hands, "Don't give me an overly complicated answer, don't make reference to me being underage- because if your mind is there, it's in dirtier places too- and don't bring up my predecessor as a shield. Do you have feelings for me?"

"How is it that you've managed to eliminate every effort I could have made to avoid answering the question?"

"I'm a smart cookie," Kurt grinned, "Do you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," Bruce's shoulders slumped, "so many feelings I don't know where to begin."

"Try listing them in alphabetical order," Kurt teased.

"I was never very good at my ABCs," Bruce admitted, "I found them beneath me."

Kurt thought about it for a moment, "Then maybe list them from the one you're least afraid of to the one that scares you most."

"How's about I tell you the two extremes on that scale?"

"To satiate my curiosity you would have to tell me why," Kurt grinned.

"Why," Bruce nodded to himself, "I can do that." He breathed heavily, getting to his feet and letting go of Kurt's hand. Kurt watched the man stretch as if he were about to run a marathon, "let's start with the easy one, the one I'm least afraid of. I'm fascinated by you; you're intelligent, witty, multi-talented, charming, in tune with the world, self-important, down to earth, beautiful and out of this world."

"Literally," Kurt chuckled.

"In every way," Bruce countered, Kurt couldn't help blushing. Bruce went from beaming sunshine and rainbows to being monochromatic and stormy skied, "I'm most afraid of how drawn I am to you. It feels like there's another other guy in my life, the way you dominate my thoughts; it feels like an addiction, so primal and basic that despite how erudite I am I still can't fight it." he shook his head, "you take over my life without even trying or meaning to. When I hear your voice, see you, smell your scent, think of you; it makes me want to know how you taste, makes me want to touch you."

"I'm as primal as the other guy?" Kurt asked, trying to hide his pleasure at the man's words; he wanted so badly to ask the man if he'd felt the same way about his other loves but could not bring himself to soil his moment with their memories. Kurt didn't want to compete because he knew that the way Bruce felt about them was a lot healthier than what they felt for each other, that made them more sustainable than Bruce and Kurt could ever be.

"It's almost as if he's in love with you!" when Bruce said the words, the room felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of it. They had, at most, known each other two or so weeks but now that it was out there. Kurt tried not to overthink the man's words, Bruce sighed heavily, "The way I feel about you is the first thing to burn as heavily as the anger."

Kurt took a deep breath, he knew what that meant, "That doesn't make it a bad thing."

"How could it be a good thing?"

"Because," Kurt took a deep breath, understanding more of what Bruce's feelings meant, "if you can embrace how you feel about me, then you can embrace the other guy. If he's really in love with me, then you're halfway there."

Bruce fell back into his seat and reached out for Kurt's hand once more, "That's the scary part."

"That's the beautiful part," Kurt countered, "even if this feeling only lasts for the next ten minutes, we need to allow ourselves to bask in it. Give ourselves permission to be as one together despite the potential for hurt and pain." Kurt's voice shrunk, "even if all it does is drive you to someone else."

~0~

Kurt rolled his eyes when he saw his friend dancing in the spot where they met daily to walk to school together, Kurt knew his friend was excitable but that didn't mean he was getting used to it. Kurt didn't try to guess what had the boy excited today; Charlie could be excited about anything from having clipped his toenails that morning to having Thor under his bed, he'd probably be equally excited about both.

"Before you say anything," Kurt held up his hand to keep the boy silent, "I wanted to let you know that Bruce will no longer be living in my house effective today, he will be moving into the apprentice's apartment above the garage."

"Why?" Charlie furrowed his brow in confusion whilst a smile spread across his face, "did your dad catch you guys doing it?"

"Funny," Kurt rolled his eyes, "but not that far off."

"You're only planning on doing it?"

"We're planning on exploring our mutual attraction," Kurt clarified, "yes. I felt I would be taking undue advantage of my father if I had my suitor living one door down, something that would never happen if I were a heterosexual."

"Not unless she was your Cersei!" Charlie smirked, "Are you and Bruce finally going to clear the sexual tension that even your father could see?"

"I'm not telling you anything about what Bruce and I have planned," Kurt poked his friend's chest, "maybe you can hear it from Bruce but my lips are sealed."

Charlie shook his head, "Don't you remember what I said about putting it in your mouth?"

"Vividly," Kurt shuddered, "we haven't even kissed yet."

"You haven't kissed him yet?"

"We're building a solid emotional foundation to what I'm afraid will be a s,all beach bungalow of a relationship," Kurt's shoulders slumped.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because there will come a time when he will no longer feel safe here," Kurt adjusted his perfect hair, "he will move on at some point."

"That's deep."

"Only way I do it," Kurt giggled, "Now, what's got you so excited?"

"I found it," the boy bounced on the spot, a toothy grin plastered on his handsome face.

Kurt widened his eyes and let his mouth hang open, "you found a _Ms New Booty_! Happy days, I've been looking for one for as long as I can remember." Kurt wasn't sure why he'd switched to a fake southern accent to mock the boy but it was working out, "Take me to it, I want to bask in it's amazing glow."

"That's cute," Charlie smirked, supressing a chuckle, "but no, I might have found our first case, our first inhuman."

Kurt shrugged, "Not as exciting as _Ms New Booty_."

"Nothing is as exciting as _Ms New Booty_."

"Touché," Kurt narrowed his gaze, "How did you-"

"I created a new spider that looks for repetitive patterns in police reports or hospital records that are linked to unexplained behaviour in Alaska," Charlie had a goofy grin on his face.

"What'd you find?" Kurt asked, an impressed smile on his face.

"There have been a number of pseudo-crucifixions happening in and around Sitka," Charlie kept nodding until Kurt nodded to show that he understood what he was being told, "so when the spider found a pattern, a different one I wrote then looked for a common thread between- in this case- the victims."

"And?"

"They were all on the same high school football team," Charlie did a self-congratulatory body roll, "Classic douchebags, probably bullies."

Kurt gave what he was being told a moment's thought, "Do you think one of their former victims is killing their bullies for revenge?"

"Revenge, yes. Killing, no." Kurt quirked a curious brow, and the boy grew even more self-congratulatory, "All the victims are alive."

"You do realise that crucifixion is a method of execution?" Kurt crossed his arms, "if you are subject to it, you die. Even if you come back in three days, dying is part of the game."

"Did you not hear me say pseudo?" the boy cocked his hip for dramatic effect.

Kurt shook his head, "You're going to have to extrapolate on that point."

Charlie rolled his eyes, "They were found hanging from goal posts dressed in loincloths."

"Sexy," Kurt nodded to himself.

"They were all past their prime," Charlie shook his head in disgust, "the complete opposite of sexy."

"When did these people graduate?" Kurt quirked a brow.

"Donkey's years ago," Charlie shook his head, "like… two thousand and eight."

"Oh my gosh," Kurt rolled his eyes, "those people are like a hundred now, why can't they just grow up?"

"Their childish ways got us our first case," Charlie said with a smarmy smile.

Kurt shrugged, "Bruce finished printing the a few more of the magnetic handcuffs, I couldn't break out of them but my dad could. Hopefully none of the inhumans we encounter are stronger than me, the cuffs held their properties at temperatures as low as fifty kelvins and as high as two thousand kelvins."

"Are those handcuffs your love-child?" Charlie made a lewd gesture.

"You're the only child I have," Kurt rolled his eyes. He squared up with his friend, "what is your plan of action?"

"My plan of action?" Charlie spluttered.

"You're the team leader," Kurt scoffed, "You make the plans."

Charlie let out a high pitched squeal of terror, "how did I become team leader?"

"By bringing together the team and snatching all the necessary info off the SHIELD system," Kurt smiled at his friend, "You're doing a great job."

"I don't have leadership potential," Charlie shook his head and chuckled to himself, "I'm least fit for the position."

"You're the only one who is fit," Kurt put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "my father and I were born with our abilities, we've had all our lives to come to terms with our abilities and non-human status." He flashed an assuring smile, "Bruce is self-loathing and unfit to offer council to people who have recently crossed the event horizon of their lives."

"But-"

"You're a confident non-human, who knows what it's like to come into their own because of their abilities," Kurt smiled, "what's the plan fearless leader."

Charlie nodded to himself, "We're going to need our most likable and down to earth members working on this."

Kurt gave Charlie a sideways glance, "You and my father?"

"Yes," Charlie nodded rigorously, "we just need to find a few of these victims and ask them who did this to them and how." Charlie waited for Kurt to nod with him, "then you come in and work that mind bullshit you just did on me and try to get them to come peacefully, or you and the green guy can beat the shit out of them."

"Firstly, my psych mark wasn't that good," Kurt smiled, "but that is a great plan."

"So?"

"You get started," Kurt smirked, "I have a little work to do."

"What work?"

Kurt's grin grew more malevolently, "Let's say my plan will result in me exclusively beating the shit out of people."

"Sexy," Charlie nodded to himself. The boy's smile fell, "Wait; If I'm team leader, then who are you?"

"I'm Santa Claus," Kurt smiled.

"Because you're the gift that keeps on giving?"

"Nope-"

The boy interrupted him, "Because you're filled with child-like wonder?"

"No, if you'll-"

Charlie interrupted him again, "Is this a weird sex thing?"

"Because I like to eat cookies and milk," Kurt snapped.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"On only one night a year," Kurt finally completed his train of thought.

Charlie's eyes grew wide, "Santa, it is you!"

~0~

"Tell me," Ms Daniels leaned forward in her seat in a fashion that made Kurt think of Barbra Streisand in _The Prince of Tides_ , "how is your relationship with your father?"

"Great," Kurt smiled, musing to himself about how all she needed to complete her look was a jaw length bob because she already had the business suit, "We get along exceptionally well, we're so close it's almost incestuous."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Right, not the time or the place for jokes," Kurt smiled guiltily, "Also, very distasteful. That's how people end up being investigated by child services." Kurt smiled, "my father is a man of above average, I am of sub-excellent intellectual capacity; it makes it very easy for us to live together, we share many interests which makes it easy for us to get along."

"How does your sexuality factor into that relationship?"

"It doesn't," Kurt shrugged, "my dad is loving, accepting, supportive and protective of me at all times. My sexuality only serves to amplify the necessity and his desire to do these things."

"So he's accepting," Kurt tried not to laugh at how the woman seemed to be reading the questions from a list, he gave her the benefit of the doubt because she was young.

"Very," Kurt smiled condescendingly, "granted he's only ever dealt with my sexuality as an abstract idea."

"An abstract idea?"

"I have no dating life to speak of," Kurt shrugged, "I don't think the fact that the only man I'm currently interested in is thirty years my senior helps the matter but it should keep things interesting."

"Thirty years your senior, I understand why that might be a source of concern," Ms Daniels pursed her lips and scribbled something into her notepad, "It's not one of your teachers, is it?"

"Ew," Kurt cringed, "on a teacher's salary, I'd rather chew glass."

"That's not hurtful at all," Ms Daniels chuckled.

"Really," Kurt tilted his head in mock contemplation, "I must be losing my touch." Kurt buffed his nails on his blazer, "how many sessions have we had?"

"This will be our third," Ms Daniels peered at Kurt over the top of her spectacles.

"That makes this is our final mandatory session," Kurt said, completing her line thought, "what do you think of the progress we've made?"

"I think we've made some leaps and bounds," Kurt watched her shift under his gaze, "Given that we've only had a few sessions, I think if we have a few more sessions we can start to see progress."

Kurt quirked a brow, "And what is it that we're progressing toward?"

"That's a loaded question with an even more loaded answer," she leaned forward and Kurt suspected that she had rehearsed this answer, "the destination is constantly evolving and like the horizon, recedes as you approach it."

"Like that answer," Kurt giggled.

"Those are very good questions and I try to give them intelligent, tangible answers," she smiled and bowed her head, "You'll remember from my class last semester that I expect the same of my students."

"I think you have a gift for teaching," Kurt smiled brightly at her, "So I would like to offer you an ultimatum."

"You're offering me an ultimatum," the confusion was evident on his former psychology teacher's face, "I don't understand."

"This is a blue pill, red pill moment," Kurt smirked, "This is not the Matrix but I am the oracle, do you want to grow stronger? The question is rhetorical."

"You're not making any sense."

"I would like to offer you the doctoral thesis of a lifetime, one that will change the field of psychiatry as we know it," Kurt smiled, projecting hope in an effort to influence her thought process, "at a small price."

"Buying research is against every academic integrity rule there is," she scoffed, Kurt knew he had her on the hook and all he had to do was reel her in, "I'm surprised at you Kurt."

"I'm not selling you research, I'm not selling you anything really," Kurt leaned forward, "I have a proposition for you, I would like to offer you the opportunity to complete your thesis on non-human psychology."

"Non-human?"

"Alien, trans-dimensional, mutant, inhuman," Kurt reclined in his seat and shrugged, "You can shrink all those heads."

"The price?"

"You just have to teach us how to talk someone off the edge of a cliff," Kurt crossed his legs for dramatic effect, "until we're ready you would have to do the job."

"Kurt," Ms Daniels leaned forward, "I don't think this is a delusion but I'm not sure what you're saying."

"Think about the mind of a man who aged to maturity in a day and lived a thousand years, an alien who grew up amongst the population, a young mutant finding his way in the world," Kurt shrugged, "sounds like the academic lottery to me." She shook her head and Kurt knew she needed to be convinced just a little bit more before she gave in to his will; he got to his feet, cracked his knuckled for dramatic effect and picked up her couch with one hand, "it's only a couch but we can go outside and I can pick up your car with my other hand, or we can go to the depot and I can bench press a bus."

"This'll do," she gaped at him.

"Excellent, I would have dreaded laying down to bench press a bus; this is vintage Chanel," Kurt shook his head, "Now, let me tell you the plan."

~0~

"Are you sure this will work?" Ms Daniels hissed from the seat beside him.

Kurt smiled at her, "Charlie hasn't led us wrong yet, his leadership skills are on fleek."

"On fleek," she furrowed her brow, "that's a good thing, right?"

"Don't dignify that with a response," Charlie said in a commanding voice.

"If you kids in the back don't stop fighting I'm going to turn this car around," his father called from the driver's seat, "Play nice."

"I'm an adult," Ms Daniels countered.

"You're twenty-four, he's a few thousand years old," Bruce added from the passenger's seat, "he always wins."

"I'm omniscient and omnipotent," Kurt's father chuckled, "that's why I always win, the fact that I'm not benevolent means you know I always cheat."

Kurt scoffed, "You're nowhere near omniscient, you're not even demiscient."

"I know enough to know that 'demiscient' isn't a word," his father countered.

"Shakespeare stayed inventing words," Kurt shrugged, "Why not me?"

"Because you're not Shakespeare," his father countered, "which isn't necessarily a bad thing, comparing people to a warm summers day when you live in England where it doesn't get that warm is not a compliment."

"On that we agree," Kurt nodded, "that was before global warming and urban heat domes, he was basically telling her that she was eighty degrees of heat."

"We're almost there," Bruce interjected.

Charlie let out a relieved sigh, "Thank god!"

"No need to thank me," Burt Hummel laughed at his own joke.

Kurt glared at his father, "I hope you die."

"Don't hold your breath," his father quipped.

"I want you to know that you suck at road trips," Charlie glared at him.

"Don't look at me, I made the most fire playlist for this trip but you guys wanted to talk," They all got out of his father's car and Kurt looked around in confusion, "Blockbusters, what is this place?"

"Get this," Charlie giggled, "apparently you rent movies from here, and the movies are on discs."

Kurt furrowed his brow, "That doesn't make any sense, why would anyone do that? What's wrong with their internet?"

"It's from before they had movies on the internet," Burt explained.

"That can't be a real thing," Kurt scoffed, "when was this? The eighties."

"Some of the nineties and the early two thousands too," Bruce grinned, "Blockbuster I know, I may not know where Pokémon are going or how to smoke Blue Ivy but I know this place; I used to have a membership."

"Blue Ivy is a person," the group chorused.

"You're shitting me!"

"There's also a person named North West," Burt grinned.

Bruce's mouth fell open, "Like the cardinal point?"

"Exactly like the cardinal point," Burt's grin turned more malevolent, "First name North, last name West."

Kurt furrowed his brow and looked his dead in the eye, "You named your son Elizabeth, you have no leg to stand on."

"Time to do the thing," Charlie gestured to his watch and, like clockwork, an overweight man stepped out of the video rental store.

"Reginald Costicle?" Kurt stepped closer to the man, "I am Kurt Elizabeth Hummel and I represent an autonomous group that recruits specially abled people like yourself for a parastatal unit called the ATCU."

"What are you? Like fourteen?" the man swished his rather unfortunate ponytail as he spoke.

"I have a great plastic surgeon," Kurt flashed a toothy grin, "We were alerted to your abilities by an acquaintance of yours, a Mr Zachery Smith."

"You can't trust Zach," the man shook his head, "I hear he's been hitting the sauce again."

"I don't know what that means because I'm from this century," Kurt tried his best to keep smiling but the man was wearing him thin, "but you aren't in any trouble, nobody has pressed any charges."

"Then why is the government looking for me," Reginald shouted back.

"We just want to know more about your abilities and help you manage them," Kurt kept a melody in the base of his voice, "Mr Smith tells us that you moved in a way uncoming of anyone." The man leaped into the sky and Kurt's draw dropped, "We're doing this the hard way."

Kurt bent his knees and jumped into the sky after the man, he caught unawares by Kurt's ability to follow him, "What the hell?"

"End it before gravity sets in," Charlie shouted from the ground.

Kurt grabbed man by the ankle and flung him to the ground, "Somebody catch him."

"By someone, you mean me?" his father shouted up at him.

Kurt started falling and he shifted into a dive formation to make quick work of his descent. Kurt hit the ground and elegantly folded himself into a ball, tucked and rolled into a fighting stance. The man was in his father's arms bridal style; Burt put the man on the ground and as expected, he charged toward Kurt, swinging punch after punch in his direction. Kurt supposed that the man had picked him because he was the smallest person in the group and some archaic form of chivalry prevented him from attacking Miss Daniels, Kurt was on the defensive but it was wearing him thin.

"Could someone intervene before I break Mr Costicle's coxal bone?" Kurt groaned as he shoved the man across the road and dusted himself off, "this sweater is Marc Jacobs, and it is cashmere."

"I told you not to wear it," Charlie grinned maniacally as he went on the offensive. Kurt watched him follow the man around the intersection, the near freezing winds were keeping the street clear but they had chosen to confine themselves to this block after Charlie had put on the GPS database that there would be construction. The boy was agile and quick as he tried to catch the large man.

"Mr Costicle," Miss Daniels called after him as she tried to soothe him where Kurt had failed, "we're acting in your best interest here, we truly mean you no harm."

"Is that why you threw me to the ground from a hundred feet in the air?" the man growled as he jumped outside of Charlie's grasp.

"That's why we caught you," she countered in a soothing voice that was very sagely, "we want to bring you into an organisation that is geared toward helping people like you."

"Fat chance of that happening," the man scoffed.

"Am I approved to use the hard way?" Kurt growled.

"Try not to rough him up too much," his father called out to him.

Kurt grinned maniacally, "let's have fun." Kurt crouched and leaped up toward the man but he was flying higher than Kurt could jump in one go, he landed on the edge of nearby building and leaped straight to Mr Costicle. Kurt took hold of the man's arm and twisted it behind him, "You still want to do this the hard way?"

"Let me go," Kurt grinned, and unclipped a one of their magnetic hand cuffs. Kurt snapped it onto the man's wrist and switched it on, the powerful electro magnet pulled them straight toward the ground and hooked onto the street light. Kurt swung down from where the man was hanging, "I hate the hard way."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Bruce teased as he turned on the other half of the hand cuffs, pulling the man down toward them, "you liked roughing him up."

Kurt gave a shy smile, "I'd like to exercise my fifth amendment right not to incriminate myself."

When they had the man hand cuffed his father carried him to the back of his pick-up truck, he opened the large crate to reveal a lining made of the same alloy as the handcuffs and a small seat. The man was forced to take a seat and the cuffs were deactivated.

Kurt took the cuffs back and clipped them onto his belt, "there are snacks under your seat. Have a safe trip."

When they closed the crate, they stood staring at each other, it was his father who spoke, "who gets to take him to the post office?"

"Considering I just did all the work while you all stood around," Kurt smiled maniacally, "I'm going to say not me."

"I'll do it," Charlie volunteered, "but we need to have a debriefing about how badly this went."

"I agree," Kurt and his father said in unison.

"Disaster," Kurt extrapolated.

"We got the guy," Ms Daniels interjected, "without destroying anything."

"But we worked very inefficiently and we didn't follow our own protocol," Charlie countered.

"Can we have this conversation somewhere else," Bruce smiled shyly, "it's really cold out here."

"I'm going to do some shopping and then I'm going to call an Über home," Kurt waved to the team and turned on his heels.

"You're just going to leave us here?" Bruce groaned.

Kurt furrowed his brow, "we came in a car, get back into that car."

Bruce blushed, "blonde moment."

~0~

"Thank you all for coming to this feedback session," Kurt smiled, "I know your present is your presence."

"I brought macarons," Ms Daniels countered.

"And we thank you for your store bought macarons," Kurt rolled his eyes, "the rest of you could learn a thing or two from Ms Daniels' efforts."

"I'm a poor student," Charlie squealed.

Kurt shook his head, "You are upper management, you should set the example." Kurt glared at his associates and flipped open his charts, "let's direct our attention to the charts I prepared."

"We were apart for an hour," Charlie gaped at him.

"I had the template for a top to bottom debriefing prepared," Kurt shrugged.

"I bet you know top to bottom debriefings well," Charlie guffawed.

"My father is here," Kurt blushed. He straightened up, "which is why I'm going to start by critiquing your work. You're at the pinnacle of this pyramid and today you failed to play point, it is your responsibility to make sure that everyone else is playing their part and you didn't do that."

Charlie nodded, "harsh but true."

"Only way I do it," Kurt grinned, "next we'll address issues in middle management, Let's begin with the work of Kurt Elizabeth Hummel; as the muscle and the person who is responsible for the swift retrieval of our targets, I delivered subpar work and we'll work on efficiency. I would like to open critique to the floor, pointers?"

"We value our lives," his father quipped.

"Well Father," Kurt smiled, "your work was exemplary but not without flaws! You did your catching when you were supposed to catch, you were helpful when we needed you to be helpful but you didn't handcuff the target before letting him go." Kurt turned to Miss Daniels, "you Miss Daniels need to use your words when they are still useful, before our target picks the hard way."

"I had a frog in my throat," she nodded, "I think I can do better next time."

"Then there's Bruce," Kurt shook his head, "You basically did nothing, let's strive to engage in the future."

"That is fair," Bruce nodded, "I was trying to stay calm."

"Why?"

Bruce gave him a pointed look, "I think we all know why."

Kurt rolled his eyes, he flipped the chart and revealed a solution table, "I think our first engagement has taught us that there are changes to be made to the plan; communication is a very serious problem, we need to be able communicate over longer distances without our target learning our plan. I have a solution," Kurt smiled, "two thousand and four is here to help."

Kurt handed out small boxes and smiled, Bruce flipped the box in his hands, "Bluetooth headsets?"

"We can be on a conference call and effectively exchange information during an engagement," Kurt explained. He filled it onto the chart, "Next is the plan."

"I thought you said you liked my plan," Charlie countered.

"I do but a slight tweak could make it more efficient," Kurt smiled, "Your plan would work very well if we had as many resources and the training that SHIELD and the ATCU have."

"What's the solution?" His father eyed him cautiously.

"I think in order for Ms Daniels to work more effectively we have to break down the plan into stages," Kurt explained, "it was all quite simple once I got to thinking on it in the über home; we need to send Ms Daniels in first to try and reason with our target."

"If I fail," she gaped at him.

"The second stage comes into effect, we send in the heavy artillery," Kurt smiled before turning to Bruce, "all of it."

"That's actually a great improvement on my plan," Charlie smiled at him, "you're good."

"I'm in agreement," Burt grinned, "when can we expect to hear back on logistics?"

"You guys sent the crate by overnight express," Kurt nodded to himself, "I left a message telling them to expect it in the morning and I have the feeling they'll get back to me by the afternoon tomorrow."

~0~

Kurt was rigorous in his vacuuming, he worked quickly and efficiently to get the bedroom ready for human consumption. Kurt stopped humming when he sensed his father's presence, he looked up and saw the man's eyes wrinkle at the corners.

"If there's one thing you got from your mother, it's this obsessive need for things to be just the way you like them," Burt smiled at him, "the longer you live, the sooner you'll realise that's not how the world works."

"I'm sure I'll be able to handle learning that I'm not the centre of the world," Kurt smirked, leaning up against the upright vac as he waited for his father to allow him to resume his work, "the one thing I'm glad I'll never have to let go of is getting my way."

His father chuckled, "Do you want to tell me why you suggested Bruce move out? Seems counter intuitive."

"We need our privacy," Kurt shrugged as he straightened a pillow on the bed.

"What do we need privacy for?"

"All of us," Kurt clarified, he quirked a brow in his father's direction, "when was the last time you checked the date?"

"Why would that matter?" Kurt smiled at his father's naiveté.

"It's early December," Kurt said, giving his father the benefit of the doubt. The man stared back at him blankly, "It's almost Christmas." Kurt clarified and hoped his father's mind hadn't been turned to mush but nothing seemed to click in the man's mind, "Daddy, you didn't break up with Carole, she and Finn are going to be here in a few weeks."

"I knew I was forgetting something," his father snapped his fingers.

"You really were," Kurt smiled.

"Did we do thanksgiving?" his father's eyes grew wide.

Kurt shook his head, "we had turkey on rye for lunch but other than that we gave it a miss."

"I don't know how that slipped my mind," his father shrugged, "I guess I'm getting old."

"So you asked Bruce to leave because of Christmas?"

"In part," Kurt nodded.

"And that part is?"

"It would have been a very full house if Bruce were still here then," Kurt smiled shyly, "and it also would have been interesting to explain why he was living with us."

"I see."

"I didn't banish him," Kurt shrugged, "he's up the road at the garage."

"It also makes sense for the apprentice to live in the apprentice's apartment," his father nodded. He moved closer and put a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder, "I just didn't want you to feel like you can't treat this as your home, that's a conversation I've been meaning to have with you."

"I live here," Kurt glared at his father, "I'm pretty sure I've made myself at home considering I furnished the place."

"About how you treat things," his father let out a tired sigh.

"I don't follow," Kurt shook his head. His father gestured to the bed, "I just crisped those linens, Don't make me have to do it again."

"Finn won't know the difference," his father took a seat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him, "Sit next to your old man."

Kurt relented and took the seat, "What's up dad?"

"Let's discuss the other part," His father slung an arm over his shoulder, "Do you remember when we watched Brokeback Mountain?"

"I already hate this conversation," Kurt tried to slip out of his father's grip but it had been a strategic move on the older man's part.

"And we both remember that first tent scene," his father had an uncomfortable smile on his face.

"We don't have to have this conversation," Kurt whined, "I still have so much vacuuming to do."

"It won't take long," his father tried to be assuring but Kurt didn't want to hear it, "I've lived many lives in succession and you have the internet so I won't pretend that we don't know what happened in that tent." His father took his hand, "I just want you to treat yourself with respect, I'm not telling you to wait or to overthink sex. What I mean is that I don't want you to throw yourself around, but I don't want you to be afraid of yourself and your feelings."

"I don't know what you mean," Kurt shook his head, hoping he could feign ignorance.

"Kurt, you're a teenage boy and you're at a stage where both your body and your mind want certain things," his father opened his parker and pulled out a stack of pamphlets, and then a pack of condoms from the other side, "make an informed decision. Ask me, ask Siri, ask when you don't know."

"I know," Kurt rolled his eyes, "always use protection."

His father patted his pockets as if looking for his keys, he smiled and dug into his breast pocket, "always use lube."

* * *

 **I hope you like it!**


	4. Chapter 4 of Phase 1

**A/n: I changed the rating because I couldn't help but get a little dirty.**

* * *

Kurt answered the phone on the first ring, "Agent Coulson, I've been expecting your call. Although I did expect you to call earlier, it's rude to keep a boy waiting."

The man on the other end of line was taken aback by Kurt's words, floundering for a moment longer than he could get away with, "who is this?"

"No time for pleasantries?" Kurt countered, clinking his tongue in disapproval, "I'm hurt, I would have thought the modifications I made to the schematic for your hand would have earned me your favour but clearly I was mistaken."

"You did that?" Kurt could hear the man's smile through the phone, "I'm impressed, you must be very gifted."

"I know how to see potential for improvement, I delegated the task," Kurt shrugged, buffing his nails on his sleeve nonchalantly, "which is why I want to tell you about the fact that every time your tracker starts to triangulate my signal, my encryption software changes my location. We reverse engineered your software."

"You reverse engineered our software? That would mean you're in our systems," Agent Coulson scoffed. Kurt listened as the man held the line, probably to consult with his subordinates, "that can't be true."

"Which is harder for you to believe?" Kurt smiled, he wished the man could see the malevolence on his face but was glad he couldn't because it would ruin the trust Kurt wanted to build between them, "that we got into the systems once and stole everything, or that we keep predicting your moves and have the same ideas down to the finest details?"

"I'm not sure which is scarier," the man chuckled.

"We don't mean you any harm," Kurt smiled, "we want to help you. Our gift should be an indication of that."

"Who do you work for?" Agent Coulson demanded.

"I don't work for anyone," Kurt smirked, even if just for his own satisfaction, "we're not affiliated with any person, organisation or government."

"Yet," Agent Coulson chuckled, "you want to help us?"

"Let's just say I wouldn't mind affiliating with you," Kurt purred into the receiver.

"I don't know whether to be flattered or afraid?" Agent Coulson's fear was palpable, "You tell me which I should be."

"There's nothing wrong with being both," Kurt's voice was a light lilt, "we both know you're already the latter."

"We know something about you too, we know you're based in Sitka; that's where the package came from," Agent Coulson countered, "Finding you up there won't be hard, I give it a week."

"Babes," Kurt supressed a giggle, "it's the twenty first century, I've seen your travel logs and I know how much ground you can cover in a short amount of time; what makes you think we aren't operating out of Russia, China, Canada, Greenland, anywhere in Europe, and that's only at the same latitude."

"Touché," Agent Coulson relented.

"And I would believe the week bit but I'm sure looking for little old me who isn't doing any harm isn't top of your priority list," Kurt shook his head, "I'm expecting you in January."

"You underestimate our resources," Agent Coulson was trying to intimidate him but Kurt would not be swayed, he had the power in this situation, "ever hear of multitasking?"

"You're doing it right now. How much longer does she need?" Kurt smiled, "How much longer till Daisy has found a way to circumnavigate our encryption software?"

"I beg your pardon," Agent Coulson's voice remained level.

"Daisy Johnson," Kurt crooned, "she's the one with the tremulous personality, likes to travel as much as you do- I hear she loved the South Pacific too."

There was a lingering silence, when Agent Coulson broke it the anger in his voice was evident yet subtle, "Who are you?" the man growled into the line, "What do you want?"

"I want to be of assistance," Kurt smiled, "it's what we all want."

"I don't suppose that this assistance comes without a catch," the man scoffed and Kurt grinned.

"There's no such thing as free lunch," Kurt smirked, he leaned forward in his seat, "I want immunity."

"From what?"

"Everything," Kurt pursed his lips, "everything that has been and everything that will ever be."

"And who is it you want this immunity for?" Agent Coulson's enjoyment of this moment was sickening.

"Tell me if you can do it and I'll tell you who it's for," Kurt's voice wafted into the receiver melodically, "I get what I want and you get what you want; tit for tat."

"The name isn't what I want," Agent Coulson countered.

"Good, there isn't one," Kurt smiled, "but when you call me next to tell me that you have what I want ready, I will tell you everything there is to know about our little organisation and we can come to terms."

The man relented, "Till then."

"Kurt flashed himself a self-congratulatory smile, "Till then."

~0~

Kurt stopped reading his English set work when he heard soft tapping on the French doors that connected his room to their back porch, he wasn't expecting a guest but supposed that the fact that they knew which was his bedroom made them more friend than foe. He slipped into his loafers and moved toward the door, the moment before leaving he grabbed a coat and threw it over his shoulders. Kurt had to take a deep breath as he was greeted by a dandelion held in a fist as large as his head, he smiled politely.

"Good evening," Kurt took the flower, unsure how to show his gratitude, "thank you for the flower."

"Hi," the Hulk replied, he flashed a smile of large flat teeth.

Kurt smiled to himself when he saw that the Hulk was wearing the unicorn pyjama bottoms with the adjusted elastic band that he had fitted for this exact reason, "Do you like the pyjamas? They're a little tight but that's how we get them to fit all the time."

"Hulk likes the horses."

Kurt's smile grew, "do you like ice-cream?" the large green man shrugged, "I think you will." Kurt moved back into the house and the Hulk moved to follow, Kurt shook his head, "you can wait out here and I'll return with treats."

Kurt went back into the house, asking himself what it was he was doing as he tiptoed through the house to the kitchen. Kurt considered dishing the ice-cream into bowls but thought better of it when he considered the Hulk's size and potential appetite. Kurt doubted his actions as he completed them, wondering what he would achieve by them and if he need bother himself with those thoughts. The idea of ice-cream in this cold weather wasn't his best but it had been the first to come to him, Kurt could later parallel it to his fondness of the beach in cold gloomy weather; dismissing it as a quirk rather than nervousness.

The Hulk sat waiting for him on the porch steps and Kurt slipped into the spot beside him, "I make it myself so be warned, it will ruin all other ice-cream for you." the Hulk chuckled and Kurt knew it would wake his father but in that moment he could not bring himself to care, "Strawberry and champagne cheesecake ice-cream."

The Hulk took the serving spoon Kurt had retrieved for him and scooped a large quantity of ice-cream, he groaned in pleasure and then howled in pain. Kurt giggled, "why do you laugh? it hurts!"

"It's not supposed to hurt," Kurt ate a spoonful of ice-cream as proof, "it's because you're eating too much too quickly."

Kurt watched the Hulk take a smaller quantity of ice-cream and cautiously eat it, he smiled, "tastes good."

"I'll be sure to pass on your regards on to the chef," Kurt smirked, "I hear he loves compliments."

"You made a joke," the Hulk sniggered.

"I'm capable of that," Kurt smirked, he looked up to the sky, "you can see so many stars from this part of the world, the city lights aren't as bright out here and so the ones that are more dim aren't drowned out."

"Twinkly lights," the Hulk shrugged, "not impressive."

"They do more than twinkle," Kurt smiled, "they're a window to another world, they are surrounded by other worlds, they create art, they tell stories, they are instruments of knowledge."

The Hulks eyes grew wide, "Art?"

Kurt pointed to the constellation he always started with, "there's Orion's belt, and his matching purse." Kurt smiled broadly, "accessorizing was important even then, especially for battle."

"What about the stories?" Hulk prompted him.

"Well each constellation has a story," Kurt explained.

"Tell Hulk one," he demanded.

"Manners," Kurt instinctively replied.

"Please."

"That's my sign," Kurt pointed into the sky, "Gemini, the twins Castor and Pollux." The Hulk nodded his acknowledgement, "they were twins born of different fathers to the same mother; Castor was the son of the King of Sparta, Pollux was the divine son of Zeus. They ascended to the stars when Castor died, Pollux asked Zeus to let his brother share in his immortality."

The Hulk traced the figures in the sky for a moment, "are they dancing?"

"They're in a tango of sorts," Kurt agreed, "it works out well for me; my high Asgardian birth and my common Kree birth battle for dominance. As if trying to decide my mortality, or lack thereof." Kurt smiled as he held the Hulk's hand as they traced out the stars, "the stories in the stars mirror our own in some way."

"What is Hulk's star story?" the Hulk asked in a small voice.

"Sagittarius," Kurt pointed the creature out, he was quiet for a moment as he tried to find the right wording, "Chiron, the archer and teacher of Achilles. There were two parts to him too, joined into one; a marriage of wisdom and strength." Kurt chose to omit that he believed that Bruce and the Hulk could achieve the same, "Chiron was part horse."

"Hulk likes horses," he pointed to his pyjama bottoms.

Kurt smiled, "There's a scientific theory that in every class there's a student who is obsessed with horses, I can see you being that person for this group."

The Hulk chuckled, "What else do stars do?"

Kurt pointed to a small, barely visible star, "That's the farthest star you can see with the naked eye, two clicks north of it is where the Large Magellanic Cloud orbits." Kurt held the hulks hand steady till he could see the star in question, "in that galaxy is the Pama star system, which is orbited by Hala; where my ancestors are from."

"You're from the stars," Hulk's eyes grew wide.

Kurt shrugged, "in some way, yes." The Hulk gaped at him and Kurt smiled, "something else the stars do is that they move, you watch one and it will go in a full circle and come back to where it is. Mathematicians in the Middle-East used the stars to figure out how long a year was. They were slightly off in their observation and that's why a circle is three hundred and sixty degrees, instead of three hundred and sixty-four and a quarter degrees."

"You're smart."

"I just know a lot of things," Kurt countered.

~0~

"Montre-fucking-al," Kurt clapped his hands, "I've always wanted to come to French Canada, and what better place to be than the birth place of Celine Dion?" Kurt twirled on the spot, " _I'll be waiting for you, here inside my heart! I'm the one who wants to love you mo-ohho-re_."

"Kurt, you're drawing a lot of attention to yourself with that slaying Celine Dion impression," Charlie warned, "maybe tone it down."

"I can't think of anything less conspicuous than someone in the Montreal Airport singing Celine Dion," Ms Daniels countered, "why else would anyone come to this place?"

"Because French Canada is the best Canada in the land," Charlie rolled his eyes, "Duh!"

"I had a whole Celine Dion medley prepared for your enjoyment," Kurt scolded as they moved quickly through the airport toward the car rental desk, "you ruined it!"

"I'm sorry," Charlie shrunk under his scrutiny, "I didn't know it meant that much to you."

"Kurt is in love with Celine Dion," Ms Daniels explained.

"That's enough about Celine Dion," Charlie snapped. Kurt messed up his signature at the demanding tone but slid the form across the counter regardless, ignoring the blunder, "She's not even here, she's in Vegas."

"I know," Kurt sighed dejectedly, swinging the rental keys around, "I checked."

"You rented a car in your name?" Charlie asked as they stopped in front of the Escalade pickup, "a flashy car at that, not exactly flying under the radar."

"It's not as conspicuous as you would think," Kurt shrugged, "I used to have one in black but it was a SUV and had spinning rims."

"But you're leaving one hell of a paper trail," Charlie countered, he leaned forward between the two front seats as he spoke so as to be better heard, "aren't you afraid of the big players following the paper trail back to you?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'm just itching to be caught."

"You drive like shit," Ms Daniels clutched her seatbelt dramatically, "How did you get a license?"

"You need a license to drive?" Kurt asked as he re-applied lip balm with one hand and steered with the other.

"To think I thought they were going to find you because of a paper trail," Charlie scoffed, "they're going to get you because you are a terrible driver"

"I'm not terrible," Kurt smiled as he checked his mirrors, "I'm just out of practice, I haven't driven since I moved to Alaska." He rolled his eyes and sat in proper formations, "Are you happy? Hands at nine and three."

"Isn't it ten and two?" Ms Daniels countered.

"I wouldn't have said nine and three if it was something else," Kurt snapped back, "it's obviously changed since the dinosaurs roamed the earth and you were still taking drivers ed."

"I'm only twenty-four," Ms Daniels countered.

"Let's go work our easiest case," Kurt rolled his eyes as he parked on the grass, "The irony is that the person who wants to be found and helped is left to us yet the people who want to be free are captured and corralled like animals."

"That's deep," Charlie shuddered.

"I can't believe you found a cry for help on Craigslist," Ms Daniels scoffed, "I can't believe people are still on Craigslist."

"I can't believe Charlie is on Craigslist," Kurt scoffed.

Charlie raised his hands in surrender, "My spider found it, I'm not a frequenter of that website."

Kurt rang the doorbell, "Ms Daniels, do your magic."

"Magic," she nodded to herself, "I have that."

A homely woman opened the door, "good morning, how can I help you?"

"Good morning madam," she spoke in a soothing tone, "I'm Li Daniels, an associate of the ATCU. I'm looking for Abigail Tanenbaum, is she available?"

"I'm Katherine, Abigail's mother. Please do come in," the woman held the door open for them, "may I ask what this visit from an American parastatal is regarding? My Abby is upstairs with the flu."

"Abigail reached out about abilities she recently developed," Ms Daniels explained, "we would like to offer her the help she is looking for."

"I don't think I understand," she nodded to herself as if having conversation with herself, "she came home from her date a few days ago and hasn't been feeling well since, I thought she'd had a fight with her boyfriend."

"She probably recently gained her abilities and is still afraid," Ms Daniels explained, "but she did reach out to the internet for help. Could you please go get her?"

"She refuses to come out," the woman seemed on the edge of sobbing, "there's nothing harder than seeing that there's something wrong with your baby and not being able to do anything to help."

"You'll be helping her by letting us get her help," Kurt explained.

The woman nodded and stood up, she moved to the foot of the wooden staircase, "Abby, there are people here who say they found your request for assistance on the internet. Please come down." She flashed them an unsure smile, "I'll get some tea while we wait."

"Practice really does make perfect," Charlie smiled, "A few more of these and we'll be better at it than SHIELD."

"Because we're not dehumanising?" Kurt quirked a brow.

"Because we're efficient," Charlie smiled.

Abigail appeared at the top of the stairs covered from head to toe, only her face exposed, "Are you here to help me?"

"We're here to try," Ms Daniels said with a reassuring smile on her face, "Please come down and speak with us."

"I can't," she shook her head, "I don't want to hurt you."

"May I come closer?" Kurt smiled, "It's okay, you can't hurt me."

"My boyfriend held my hand, he got shingles and gastro," she explained, "I don't mean to hurt people but I do, the waitress who tried to help us got measles. I bumped into my friend at the mall, we hugged and she got chicken pox!"

"When did this start?" Kurt asked as he ascended the stairs, he sat on the top stair and patted the spot beside him, "You won't hurt me, I've never even had the flu."

She took the seat and Kurt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "it started that day after lunch, I had a seizure; I've been epileptic my whole life so that wasn't too odd." She started shaking and violently sobbing, "I haven't been able to touch anyone without them getting sick ever since."

"What did you have for lunch?" Kurt tried not to make the question sound strange.

"I had a tuna sandwich," she shrugged, shaking her head in confusion, "I eat tuna all the time."

"When you woke up from your seizure, were there black rocks around you?"

"Yes," she floundered, "how did you know?"

"You recently underwent a process known as Terragenesis," Kurt explained, "Your DNA had a dormant sequence of Kree DNA that was activated when you came into contact with the contagion which was probably in the tuna you ate."

"I'm an alien?" she spluttered.

"No, you're an inhuman," he smiled at her, "a long time ago, humans were infused with alien DNA and those genes have spread throughout the population just like any other gene. Some people have it and others don't, when those who do come into contact with the contagion they receive inhuman abilities."

"Are you inhuman?" she asked as Kurt removed her glove and took her hand.

"No, I belong to the Alien race whose DNA you have."

She gasped, "I've never met an alien before."

"To your knowledge," Kurt added with a cheeky grin.

Abigail giggled, "I guess so." She wrapped her free arm around herself, "What now?"

"We're going to forward you to a facility where they will help you manage your abilities," Kurt smiled, "when you have better control, you can come back home and resume your life."

"I'd like to have a normal life again," she smiled shyly, "as normal as life can be when you can give someone pink eye just by touching them."

~0~

Kurt smiled at his father over the dinner table; they were finding themselves in this position too often of late, whether it was a good thing or a bad thing was yet to be determined. Kurt appreciated that the recent shift in their lives had caused him and his father to start speaking more honestly with each other, even if it wasn't civil.

"Thank you for coming to this meeting." He pushed the plate of store bought cookies in the man's direction, "Shall I be mum?"

"Raisin Oatmeal," the man took a large bite, "this can't be good, but they aren't homemade so it can't be that bad."

"I've been busy," Kurt shrugged, "we've been a lot busier than I thought we'd be, Charlie's spider finds a case every other day."

"Feels that way doesn't it," Burt nodded, "considering the amount of time we've been spending together of late, I was surprised to receive your summons."

"Trust me," Kurt smiled, "I summoned you for a reason."

"I don't know where you got the idea that it was okay to summon me but stop," he shook his head, "you can just ask me to speak to you." His father smiled none the less, he gestured to the teapot sitting between them, "you know how I like it.

"I thought this conversation should be a little more formal given how important the ramifications of it will be," Kurt took a deep breath, speaking as he poured their tea, "I'm done with high school."

"You haven't graduated, so you're actually not done," His father's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, or where one would have been had the man had one to speak of, "You want to drop out of school?"

"Strictly speaking," Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat and sat up straighter, he squared his shoulders and looked his father in the eye, "no."

"You haven't even heard back from colleges yet," his father shook his head, "how do you expect me to allow you to just throw all of that away without knowing what they would say?"

"I'm not throwing anything away," Kurt said in a soothing voice, he sipped his tea and waited for his father to regain his composure, "and I am certainly not asking to be allowed anything."

"I beg your pardon," his father growled.

Kurt smiled, projecting serenity to his father, "Do you not wish to hear what my plan is? Or are you having too much fun overreacting to everything I say?"

"Overreacting is a lot of fun," His father let out a tired breath, "What is your plan?"

"I've already taken my SATs and am awaiting results," Kurt explained, trying his hardest not to sound condescending, "I already paid for them and you know I would have spent that money on shoes if I didn't intend to use the test results in the foreseeable future." His father chuckled and Kurt was glad he'd included that bit to remind his father that he was still the same boy, "I also have every intention of graduating from high school and going to college but right now I have no idea what either of those things mean and all high school is doing is clouding my judgement."

A smile spread across his father's weathered face, "What do intend on doing for the next nine months? Meditating?"

"We both know I don't have the temperament for meditation," Kurt scoffed, "I'm putting my feelers out, looking for something to do."

"How are you going to graduate if you're 'done with high school'?" his father's tone was deliberately condescending, "you don't have enough credits to graduate yet."

"I'm going to transition into home schooling and through independent study I will finish my courses for this year," Kurt reached out toward his father, "this is something I've been considering for a while, I'm not just up-ending my whole life on a whim."

"You really think you can do this?"

"If I could teach myself how to use a half-loop top stitching on low-viscosity rayon," Kurt smiled, "then I can theoretically learn to do anything?"

"You sent out your résumé and everything?" his father's smile fell, "but I never got a copy."

"I can't put any work I do for you onto my résumé," Kurt scoffed.

"Whatever will I do without you?" his father teased.

"You can travel more," Kurt suggested, "go see Carole, visit your old stomping grounds without me tying you down."

"You're asking me to be young, wild and free?" his father scoffed, "after a hundred years of being boring?"

"I was simply suggesting you be the last two," Kurt teased.

~0~

"I hope you haven't eaten because I am making _Tournedos Rossini_ ," Bruce announced when Kurt walked into the simplistically furnished studio above the garage, "and it's almost ready."

Kurt was floored, "I thought this was a spur of the moment invitation, where and when did you source _Foie gras_ and black truffle?"

"What?" Bruce stared at him blankly, "I thought that meant steak with pepper sauce."

"That's _Steak au poivre_ ," Kurt giggled.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fluent in French," Kurt knew his tone was biting and condescending but he couldn't help himself, "I brought wine, do you have an opener?" the man shook his head as he attended to the meat that he was panfrying, Kurt snapped the top off the wine bottle.

"That is a cool party trick," Bruce grinned, "Like the sabre thing people do with champagne."

"Tell me I'm not going to have to drink this out of a mug," Kurt asked as he opened the kitchen cabinets.

"There's a set of wine glasses in the cupboard next to the microwave," he gestured with his elbow, "Aren't you a little young to be drinking wine?"

"It's too early in the evening for you to be asking me if I'm too young for things," Kurt chuckled, "I like my steak blue, it should basically still be walking."

Bruce smiled at him, "did you bring any ice-cream?"

"I beg your pardon?" Kurt took a large gulp of wine.

"You make ice-cream," Bruce spoke slowly, "did you bring any?"

"No," Kurt mirrored the man's speaking pattern, "I haven't exactly been made of free time, I'm out of ice-cream." Kurt downed the remainder of his wine and charged his glass, "I also don't like mixing wine and ice-cream."

"We won't have desert," Bruce shrugged.

Kurt moved in closer and blew into the man's ear, "we'll have each other's company."

"Could you… what I mean is-" Bruce squirmed, "would you mind… please pass me some plates." Kurt followed instructions and watched the man squirm under his gaze, "You can go sit down, I'll be right out."

"I'm fine where I am," Kurt smirked, "I like watching you work."

"You're really flustering me and this steak is already rare," Bruce blushed as he tried to dish up in next to no time, Kurt enjoyed watching him squirm, "please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Kurt bared his teeth.

"Like you're going to eat me," Bruce shrunk away, doing the last of the plating up.

Kurt stepped forward and took the plates from the man, "bring the wine." Kurt placed one plate at the head of the table and another next to it, Bruce took his seat and Kurt leaned down and kissed him.

Their lips were joined and in that moment a surge exchanged between the two of them; Kurt held on to the man's cheeks, rough stubble on his palms. They broke apart and breathed each other in, "What was that for?"

"It was long overdue," Kurt smiled, "it finally felt like the right time."

Kurt took his seat, he made quick work of beginning his meal. Bruce stared at him expectantly as he chewed a mouthful of broccoli and steak, "What do you think? Be brutally honest."

"Have you ever heard of salt?" Kurt smiled shyly.

Bruce gaped at him, "I didn't mean be that honest."

"You asked me to be brutal," Kurt countered, he fed Bruce a fork full of the food, "what are your thoughts?"

"I think it's a beautiful evening to part-take in a liquid diet," Bruce shuddered, taking their plates away, "I guess I'm not multitalented like you."

"It's a curse in itself," Kurt shrugged.

"There go our evening plans," Bruce took his seat again, "What now?"

"You know," Kurt leaned forward, raising his wine glass for a toast, "we still have each other's company."

"A toast?" Bruce furrowed his brow, "to what?"

"You recently had a birthday," Kurt smirked, "look me in the eye or it's seven years of bad sex."

"It would be an improvement from my current streak," Bruce chuckled.

"Well," Kurt pursed his lips, "you recently had a birthday." He lazily traced his index finger over the frown lines on the man's handsome face, "we could have a good time."

"We don't have to take our clothes off to have a good time," Bruce whispered, as if he were trying to keep a secret from someone right beside him, reserving his words for Kurt alone, "we can dance and party, all night."

"I didn't bring any cherry wine," Kurt countered, his lips moving over the man's earlobe as he purred the words.

"Kurt," Bruce chuckled, "we both know how this ends."

"Did you ever for a moment think that maybe I could hurt you?" Kurt bit lightly on the man's neck, "is that why you're afraid?"

"I doubt it."

"You should count on it," Kurt grinned. He got to his feet and towered over the seated man, "I know you want me but you're hesitating, why?"

"You must be crazy to ask me that," Bruce chuckled. Kurt opened his bag and clipped an elastic band around Bruce's bicep, "what's this?"

"Heart rate monitor," Kurt smirked, "but we'll still take things slow."

"We will?"

"To begin with," Kurt pulled the man to his feet, kissed him deeply and laid him back on the dinner table.

Kurt popped the man's button open and pulled down his fly, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of the man's boxers and slowly started to pull them down.

Bruce reached out and stopped him when his pubes began to peak out over the waistband, "I'm out of practice."

"And I've never done this before," Kurt countered, "We'll wade into the waters together."

Kurt smirked, unhooking his fingers and grabbing the hem of Bruce's shirt, he made quick work of shredding the man's t-shirt. Kurt raked his fingers through the man's chest hair; the man wasn't in peak human condition, a little soft at the waist but muscular none the less. Kurt worked his fingers over the man's torso and back to the waist band, pulling both his boxers and his slacks down to his knees; both of Kurt's eyes were focused on the one eye staring back at him from the head, it was a soft rosewood colour. Kurt put his hand around the man's dick and gave it a quick jerk, watching the foreskin sliding back and forth over the head.

Kurt brought the engorged member to his lips, he gave the head a soft kiss- Bruce's body vibrated under his power and Kurt couldn't help smiling at the power he had at that moment. He opened his mouth and allowed the penis entry into his mouth, the taste was savoury and reminded Kurt of licking your lips after some rigorous exercise; the musk in the taste matched that in the smell but with a sweet and salty additive. Kurt alternated between gently using his teeth and his lips to leverage himself down the large member till it filled his mouth, with his fist still in place Kurt increased his suction and slowly began to bob up and down with his hand keeping time.

Bruce moaned under Kurt's performance, wiggling under the punishment of Kurt's slow pleasuring. Kurt got his pleasure from feeling the man squirm at his will, unable to fight what Kurt was doing to him; he was in control of everything Bruce was feeling in that moment, that gave Kurt the most pleasure. Kurt took his time, working slowly and drawing out the ecstasy that was flying between them as Bruce moaned and called his name; calling for Kurt to do more, not to stop, to suck harder or faster, and to keep giving him more of the same. Kurt indulged the man, making so he thought he was in control, pretending to follow instruction and going the complete opposite way as soon as an affirmative gasp escaped Bruce's lips.

Kurt felt the man's muscles shorten before he did, and by the time he was announcing his impending ejaculation, Kurt was ready to receive it. Semen in Kurt's mouth had the elastic texture of mucus but had a taste Kurt could only parallel to oysters, he slowly pulled off the man's semi erect penis and sucked on it like a straw as he did.

Bruce stared at him breathlessly, "What are they teaching in schools these days?"

Kurt kissed the man, supressing a giggle, "Sex education is a lot more comprehensive than it used to be."

"If I ever have the misfortune of having kids, I'm home schooling them," the man shook his head as Kurt cuddle up to his side, Bruce's naked body contrasting with Kurt's dressed one. The man teased at the buttons on Kurt's oxford, undoing them slowly and keeping the air around them serene.

Kurt grinned, "under normal circumstances, you'd have to take me out three times before we got that far."

"But?"

"Given the circumstances," Kurt kissed him, "I don't want to say goodbye before we've had the opportunity to say hello properly."

"You're afraid I'll disappear," Bruce sighed dejectedly.

Kurt kissed him again, "there are a number of things that could drive us apart, the world is changing and with that change that number grows."

"You're afraid aliens are going to ruin our sex life?" Bruce chuckled, "Or is it the inhumans?"

"Or the government," Kurt added, "SHIELD, or the ATCU."

~0~

Kurt stood on the porch as his father's car pulled into the driveway, the smile on his face was faker than his Christmas cheer; it wasn't that he didn't want to get into the Yuletide spirit but he was feeling uneasy of late. The car came to a stop and out jumped Finn and Carole who were clearly very deeply into the spirit of Christmas, judging from their sweaters Kurt was going to need to make the egg nog a little bit stronger for them all to survive the festive season.

"Kurt!" Finn shouted excitedly, running up to Kurt and grabbing him, "What's up buddy?"

"I'm well," Kurt patted the taller boy's back, "thank you, how are you?"

"I'm great," Finn beamed at him, "I was in the Lima Christmas special, imagine that! Me on TV!"

"With your talent," Kurt scoffed, "I can't."

"Kurt," his father smiled, speaking from between gritted teeth, "Why don't you show Finn where he'll be sleeping?"

"Oh yes," Kurt shrugged impassively, "I'm sure he's forgotten since summer."

"Be nice about it," his father growled.

"No promises," Kurt shrugged, "Follow me." Kurt walked silently into the foyer and helped Finn out of his overcoat, he led the boy down the hallway and stopped in front of the guest bedroom, "this is it, the guest bathroom is across the hall."

"Kurt," there was a confused look on the boy's face, "what's wrong? Why are you so cold toward me?"

"What were you expecting?" Kurt quirked a curious brow.

The tall boy shrugged, "I don't know, not this."

"You were expecting the boy from sophomore year," Kurt scoffed, "that I would fall to the ground before in worship like id so many times before." He shook his head, "You remember the attention but do you remember how you reacted when you realised the root of that attention? Because I remember you calling all my stuff 'faggy'."

"Kurt," the boy stared at him incredulously, "we got past that."

"I also remember you telling me I couldn't sing a song with Sam just a few weeks before I left Lima," Kurt tilted his head and tapped his foot expectantly, "Do you remember that? Or would you like a more recent example?" Kurt flipped his hair and crossed his arms, "I heard about what you did to Santana, Brittany told me."

"You weren't there," Finn shook his head, "You don't understand."

"And I don't want to understand," Kurt snapped, "Don't try to make me. And don't try to make me through song."

"Why are you like this?"

Kurt smirked, "the weather isn't the only thing that's cold up here."

* * *

 **Hope you liked it.**


	5. Chapter 5 of Phase 1

**A/n: this chapter is the last in phase one, I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," the man scoffed.

"Hearing my name does not frighten me," Kurt countered with an indignant roll of his eyes, "Phillip J. Coulson." Kurt leaned forward, resting his chin on the handcuffs that kept him in place, "Are you afraid?"

"No," the man spoke impassively, "I'm not afraid."

"Is the true fear in one's middle name?" Kurt pursed his lips as he gazed up at the man, "What is it? John? Jacob? Jingleheimer? It's Josiah, isn't it?"

"You think now is the time to be joking?" the man smirked, "maybe you don't realise how much trouble you are in. Maybe I should remind you."

"Let's not and say we did," Kurt fixed an imaginary stray hair.

"You hacked into the SHIELD systems, you stole and altered propriety information, you obstructed government activity, you destroyed a McDonald's," Agent Coulson's smile grew, "and you withheld information regarding a missing person."

"I don't understand why you're telling me this," Kurt tilted his head condescendingly, "I know exactly what I did."

"Yet you don't realise the severity of this situation," the man's smirk was more contemptuous than his own.

"I know how severe you think this situation is but what I need for you to do is to realise how much I don't care," Kurt mirrored the man's smirk.

The man leaned forward, "Why is that?"

"Because I know there is nothing you can do to me," Kurt whispered.

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't think it, I know there's nothing you can do to me," Kurt drummed his hands on the metal table, "we're both acting outside of the law and I'm sure that General Glenn Talbot wouldn't waste his time arresting a seventeen-year-old boy from a small town in Alaska."

"I don't work for Talbot," Agent Coulson countered.

Kurt shook his head, "I know, he works for you but seeing as you're legally dead and all, you need him to do your arresting for you as head of the ATCU."

"You know quite a bit."

"I read," Kurt shrugged, "it's kind of my thing."

The man smirked, "And you claim to have read all of SHIELD's public and private files?"

"Most," Kurt admitted.

"And so you know all about TAHITI?"

"That was a good one," Kurt chortled, "has potential as a novel, the movie adaptation can star Octavia Spencer as the lead."

"Which means you know a thing or two about GH-325?"

"Extensively," Kurt spoke with a dramatic flair, "like it's the back of my hand."

"What do you know of its effects?"

"This is actually getting tedious," Kurt rolled his eyes, buffing his nails on his shirt, "Could we cut to the chase instead of you trying to lead me there one baby step at a time?"

"I'm talking about the fact that it drove all the people it was administered to insane," Agent Coulson smirked.

Kurt giggled, "it didn't drive you or Daisy insane, or at the very least you seem to have recovered."

"You know it well."

"I know it well enough not to be afraid," Kurt's laughter grew into a chuckle.

"I hear the madness, when left unchecked, is worse than anything you can imagine," the man's smile grew malevolent.

By this point Kurt had reached guffaw level of laughter, struggling to supress the laughter long enough to speak, "not really afraid of a little Kree blood." Kurt leaned forward, his features schooled into an icy scowl, "I'm not sure if you can hear it but the sound of the bottom of the barrel being scraped is pretty deafening from where I'm sitting."

~0~

 _Thirty-Six Hours Earlier:_

Bruce's hand covered Kurt's hand in much the same way that the older man's body was covering Kurt's; their moans and grunts harmonizing and filling the room with the primitive sounds of love making as they shared in that winter moment on Bruce's bed. Kurt clutched fistfuls of the sheets and twisted them between his fingers in an effort to keep ecstasy and reality separate- Bruce was doing to Kurt what Kurt had done to him on their first night together, and every time they'd had the opportunity since; the only difference was that Bruce didn't know he was doing it. The man was pleasuring Kurt with slow and decisive strokes, each grazing his prostate enough to drive him mad but not enough to bring him to a release.

Kurt bit his lip, grabbing more desperately at the sheets and digging his nails into Bruce's buttocks with his other hand; willing the man to thrust deeper and harder into him, willing the man to bring Kurt to the release he so longed for. Kurt's toes curled and he howled until he was hoarse but the man did not meet his requests no matter how much he moaned for more or growled for harder thrusts, Bruce had all the control and he was railing Kurt out like a nineteenth century strap rail conductor- slow and steady.

"Stop," Kurt said decisively, taking a moment to breathe as they held their position, Bruce balls deep in him. Kurt flipped them both over so that Bruce was on his back and he was on top, "I'm the captain of this ship now."

"I don't get the reference," the man chuckled in his ear.

Kurt giggled, lifting himself off Bruce's erect penis with an audible pop. Kurt turned so that they were facing each other and impaled himself on the throbbing member once more as he looked down into Bruce's brown eyes as they rolled back into his head, Kurt was in charge again. Kurt raked his fingers through the man's chest hair as he bounced excitedly, pleasuring them both to a point of ecstasy as he increased the speed and force his thrusts. Bruce howled when Kurt twisted his nipple, moaning Kurt's name in the after math as he breathed heavily. Kurt knew that they would both come to their climax soon but was glad that they were doing it on his terms, Kurt swirled on the man's engorged member- maximising both of their pleasure.

Kurt's climax- when it came- was an eruption of white, hot, erotic frenzy; Kurt fell forward, resting his elbows on either side of the man's head- kissing him deeply without desisting with his slow grinding. He was slow and deliberate, edging Bruce just a little longer before allowing the man to come.

"I'm so close," Bruce moaned, "Oh Kurt."

"Just a little longer," Kurt grinned.

"Not longer," Bruce gritted his teeth as his muscles shortened and his climax came like a geyser, "now."

Kurt laid there for a moment, his semen drying between their bodies. There was a soft and defeated pop as Bruce's flaccid penis slid out of him, Kurt listened to the man's heart beating; it was fast and loud but he knew that it didn't mean anything, it was just him and Bruce this afternoon.

"I hate how in post coital scenes in film and television people feel the need to recount the sex they just had," Kurt rested his chin between the man's pecs, "do you need me to share my thoughts on the sex I just had with you?"

"It depends," Bruce smiled, "Will it be complimentary?"

"My dad has chart paper downstairs," Kurt kissed the man's chin, "I can have a top to bottom strength analysis chart ready in five minutes; then we'll know all the areas in which you can improve."

"I don't like that idea anymore," Bruce leaned down and kissed Kurt's forehead.

"Good," Kurt got out of bed, "I need to shower and go home, I told my dad I went to get eggs for the egg nog." He checked his watch, "that was an hour ago."

"I'm sure the custard has curdled by now," Bruce joked.

"Custard can't curdle without eggs," Kurt giggled, walking across the apartment to the bathroom, "are you going to join me or am I going to have to wash my own back?"

"I'm going to have to pass," Bruce shook his head and sprawled out on the bed, "if I join you then your shower will only devolve into more sex, I know you only want me for my body."

"Whatever," Kurt shrugged, "it would have been counterproductive anyway."

"And I know how important productivity is to you," Bruce called from the next room as Kurt ran the shower hot.

Kurt jumped into the shower and made quick work of lathering up, he hated Bruce's bathroom because it lacked his necessities but he couldn't go home covered in dry semen and smelling like sex. Kurt had left his home rather rashly following his confrontation with Finn and had not planned well, he thought now of how he would smooth things over upon his impending return to his home but he was incapable of coming up with a solution that would abate the situation; he knew that for the sake of his father he needed to do the best he could to fix things with Finn.

Coming to Bruce's hadn't been his best idea but it wasn't like they were just going to let him hide in his room but the last thing he wanted to do was sit there and pretend everything was fine like he had the year before and during the summer. Kurt had told himself that he was leaving because he needed air but in near freezing weather he needed to take it somewhere with walls; he hadn't come looking for sex but he hadn't come for a therapy session either; it made him uneasy about his relationship with Bruce for a moment but it passed quickly, not all people were destined for a life of talking endlessly about their feelings.

Kurt towelled off and wrapped his hair as he walked back into the bedroom to get dressed. Bruce was still in the same spot Kurt had left him in, "If you walk around naked, it'll only tempt me to be a bad boy."

"Not everything is about you," Kurt payed little mind to the man as he lay in the same sprawling position but now he had a carton of eggs in his lap.

"These are for you," the man handed him the carton.

"If you give me all your eggs then what will you eat?" Kurt quirked a brow as he started to moisturise his limbs.

"The carton is empty," Bruce grinned malevolently, "I figure no one will check if you came back with eggs."

"Especially since we have eggs in the house," Kurt mirrored the man's smile, walking across the room to kiss him, "the student has become the master."

"You taught me well," he beamed at Kurt who was pulling on his jeans, Bruce handed him the tunic he'd been wearing, "hurry home before Burt shoots me."

"Auf wiedersehen," Kurt gathered his belongings and blew the man a kiss.

"do svidaniya," the man called after him.

Kurt made quick work of climbing down the stairs on the outside of the building and took determined strides down the street, he cursed himself for not thinking of taking the car. The distance wasn't great between his house and the garage but it was long enough for Kurt to miss his earphones, the fact that it was the evening of the twenty-third left the streets empty and the neighbourhood quiet.

Kurt rarely entered the house from the front and for a moment considered going around for his own comfort but thought better of it, sitting in the lounge were his father, Carole and Finn; in his absence they had decorated the house and brought the yuletide spirit into the Hummel house.

"Kurt," his father beamed at him, "we were about to send out a search party."

"I was out so I figured I'd go give Bruce his Christmas gift," Kurt shrugged, "I got eggs."

"Great," Carole got up and took the carton from him, her smile, "honey, this carton is empty."

"Steven King's father left to buy cigarettes and didn't come back," Kurt scolded, "I'm sure he would have been happier if he'd come back with an empty carton."

"I see," Carol nodded to herself, "did your friend like his gift?"

"That's not an appropriate question," his father smirked, "Bruce is Kurt's boyfriend."

"You have a boyfriend?" Finn beamed up at him.

"Yes," Kurt pursed his lips, "he's forty-seven."

"How dirty would you like your eggnog?" Carole called from the kitchen.

"There's a recipe for Jamie Oliver's eggnog on the refrigerator," Kurt called out, "please use that."

"But I have my own recipe," Carole appeared in the serving window.

Kurt glared at his father and the man knew what needed to be done, "Kurt has been looking forward to trying that recipe all year, just this once." There was an awkward silence and his father worked to move past that, "Finn, what are your college plans?"

Kurt caught sight of Carole shaking her head, this made him pay attention to the boy's answer, "I thought I was going to play college football-"

"Why?" Kurt furrowed his brow, "Your team was terrible."

"We're so much better now," Finn grinned, "We won the championship last year and even had recruiters come to watch our matches this year, the new coach was doing the most for us." Finn sighed and his smile fell, "none of them wanted to recruit me."

"That's not a college plan," Kurt scoffed, "that was one entry route, where did you apply?"

"Nowhere," Finn shrugged.

"I applied to five colleges in New York alone and three more in London," Kurt shook his head, "I also applied to all the important colleges; I probably sent out more applications than all the New Directions combined." Kurt scoffed, "should have called y'all the no directions."

"Rachel says that applying anywhere but your dream college is bad luck," Finn countered, "she said it makes the school think you aren't serious about them."

"Rachel's an idiot," Kurt countered, "did she only apply to one school or is that just her plan for you?"

"She only applied to NYADA," Finn declared as if Kurt should be impressed.

"And what if she messes up the audition?" Kurt quirked a brow.

Finn looked wounded by Kurt's question, "Why would you say such a thing?"

"It's called being pragmatic," Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'm sure going to Julliard or the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts would be better than being left with no prospects. Colleges also don't have the time to check where else you applied, considering they get thousands of applications."

"I guess we do things differently in Lima," Finn shrugged irritably.

"I guess so," Kurt shrugged.

~0~

 _Present:_

"So," the young woman smiled at him, she was clearly trying to play the part of good cop, "you hacked into SHIELD."

"Is this the part where you try to establish some kind of rapport with me?" Kurt rolled his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I don't know," she kept smiling, as if her gleeful presence would win him over, "is it working?"

"It depends," Kurt smirked, "do you want to bash my head in?" She was floored, "then no, there's no rapport."

"You know," she leaned forward, smiling a little less, "I spoke to Abigail and she told me how you helped her."

"I've helped dozens of people," Kurt shrugged nonchalantly, "What makes her special?"

"You told her about your gift," Daisy smiled, "she says you told her about being inhuman and that she was able to touch you."

"I told all the people I helped about being inhuman," Kurt rolled his eyes, "big whoop."

"You told her about how you were inhuman," Daisy smiled, "like I am, you helped her through a hard time. We can offer you help managing your gift."

"You silly, self-important little girl," Kurt shook his head in disbelief.

Daisy gaped at him, "excuse me?"

"I don't have a gift," Kurt shook his head, "I'm nothing special amongst my peers."

"Kurt," she extended her hand toward him, "a gift like your, once we help you manage it-"

"What makes you think you are qualified to help me?" Kurt got to his feet and started pacing.

"I've been through what you're going through," Daisy was attempting to establish a connection with him and it was frustrating Kurt, "I felt like a monster when I first changed-"

"I haven't changed," Kurt turned on his heels and put his hands on his hips.

"We have experience and-" her jaw fell open, "those cuffs are supposed to be magnified to the table."

"You guys should have switched to my revised design," Kurt shook his head as he broke the cuffs off his wrists, "these are an inferior good in comparison to the revised, the electromagnet in ours is stronger and they are made of a finer alloy."

"Captain America struggled with those," Daisy shook her head, "he has super human strength."

"Superhuman, yes," Kurt crossed his arms, "but human none the less."

Daisy nodded slowly, "With your strength it is important that you let us help you, adjusting to life after your biomorphic event."

"Why is it that you assume that my abilities are inhuman?" Kurt fell back into his chair, "are you so arrogant that you assume that everyone with abilities belongs to the same species as you?"

"Species?"

"Inhumans are homo sapien sapien enriched with Kree DNA," Kurt explained, "but there are other people with abilities, homo sapien superior is the next step in evolution; mutants have abilities too. Of late there have been reports of humans who have abilities as a result of experimentation, like Dr Banner." Kurt leaned forward and in his most condescending voice, "What makes you so sure I'm an inhuman?"

"But," she floundered for a moment, "you helped so many inhumans I-"

"In the time since I first sent you an inhuman subject I have sent as many mutants to the Xavier school," Kurt smirked, "I just wanted to be helpful to the people whose lives were changing."

Daisy's face came out of the darkness as realisation dawned on her, "Then what are you?"

"Finally the right question," Kurt smirked.

~0~

 _Twenty-Four Hours Earlier:_

Kurt sipped on his morning coffee and glared at the morning paper, he wasn't making eye contact with any one and he wasn't being social. He read about his high school ice hockey team's defeat and realised that it was a week old newspaper, he put it down and was greeted by Charlie's smiling face.

"Don't you have a family of your own?" Kurt furrowed his brow.

"I do," Charlie smiled, "not the best way to ask someone if they're an orphan."

"I'm currently too exposed to people who I hate to be proper," Kurt gulped down the last of his coffee, "Forgive me."

He chuckled, "my family did Christmas last week, my mom's on call this week and my dad doesn't observe any holidays during this festive season, Mawlid isn't till next week."

"Still so excited," Kurt smiled, "still my favourite sober holiday."

"I get it now," Charlie smirked at him, "You're hungover!"

"Say it louder," Kurt rolled his eyes, "not sure my father quite heard that."

"Eggnog messed you up like this?"

"I mostly just had the nog," Kurt shook his head, "wasn't in the mood for custard or to be civil."

"What is doing this to you?"

"This guy I used to be crazy obsessed with, dogged me a few times," Kurt shrugged, "he's staying in our house and it's the worst reminder of what an idiot I was."

"Drink the pain away," Charlie pushed the cup toward him.

"This is coffee."

"Not hair of the dog?" Charlie shook his head, "let me distract you, I've found us a new case and this one is epic."

"I'll do it but I won't enjoy," Kurt downed his coffee.

"You don't want to ask me about this person's powers?"

"Would you tell me about them if you didn't think I could take them?" Kurt quirked a curious brow.

"You're going to need either your dad or Bruce," Charlie smiled shyly.

Kurt's jaw fell open, "I can't take them?"

"Not alone," Charlie slung his arm over Kurt's shoulder in a manner that had come to comfort him, "you're going to need back up because from what I've gathered, this dude straight up fucks your brain. They have some kind of mind reading and manipulation shit going on."

Kurt shook his head, "My options for back up are a man who recently got over his childhood trauma after thousands years, or a man with serious anger issued and a disassociated identity."

"You're the one who is having sex with them," Charlie shrugged.

"I beg your pardon?"

Charlie raised his hands defensively, "I mean Bruce and the Hulk."

"Seeing as they are different people," Kurt spoke sternly, "I'm not two timing them, I'm only sleeping with Bruce. The Hulk and I are just friends."

"Never in my life have I heard something that strange," Charlie teased.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I think that might be because something that strange hasn't been said before, ever."

~0~

 _Present:_

"Agent Johnson tells me that you're more willing to cooperate now," Agent Coulson smirked at him.

"No more than before," Kurt reclined in the seat.

"Why does she think differently?" Agent Coulson flipped through the notes on his clipboard for effect.

"She came in here on the high horse of having found Nirvana after becoming an inhuman," Kurt shrugged, "telling me about how you can help me, basically selling an inhuman summer camp to me."

"Which is a cute way of putting what we do for inhumans," the mans smiled, "but she says that you claim that you're not inhuman."

"You see that's where she gets the idea that I've changed my tune," Kurt leaned forward and had a predatory smile on his face, "I schooled her on how inhumans weren't the only people with special abilities, then there was one question floating in her head."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm an American and as such I have certain rights," Kurt smirked, "And because you threatened to torture me I'm not sure if I should speak with you."

"What's a little torture between friends?" Agent Coulson grinned.

"We're not friends Agent Coulson," Kurt shook his head, pursing his lips and speaking in soft whisper, "and there's certainly nothing between us."

"You wound me," Agent Coulson smirked.

Kurt mirrored the expression, "I've been told it's one of my talents."

"Only one of?" Agent Coulson leaned forward.

"I'm multitalented," Kurt shrugged, reclining in his seat and killing the moment.

Agent Coulson straightened up in his seat and Kurt saw the man shake a little, "We've done our research as well." The man furnished a charcoal folder with his photo on the outside, "You made it to worlds when you were thirteen, at sixteen we have you winning the national cheerleading championship."

"You watched my Celine Dion medley?" Kurt's face lit up.

"We've seen it," the man nodded, "Fourteen minutes in French."

Kurt smiled self-satisfactorily, "I was amazing!"

"You have a number of achievements under your belt," Agent Coulson leaned forward, "yet you still managed to fly under the radar."

Kurt shrugged, "I was only in it for the fun."

"No," the man shook his head, smirking once more, "I think there's more to it."

"I think tigers dream of me," Kurt said nonchalantly.

"Your history makes it more easy for me to believe that you aren't inhuman," Agent Coulson had a self-congratulatory grin on his face, "You're something altogether new."

"This is exciting you way too much," Kurt scoffed.

"What are you?"

"What I am is hungry," Kurt reclined once more in his seat, "can I get a number two with some mac sauce?"

"You want that supersized?"

"No," Kurt shook his head, "make the drink a Mountain Dew, code red."

~0~

 _Eighteen Hours Ago:_

"Tell me again why we're doing this on Christmas eve?" Bruce whined from the backseat.

Charlie rolled his eyes, "Kurt, talk to your boyfriend."

"He's your employee," Kurt countered.

"I'm also just Bruce," the man interjected.

"Don't make this about you," Kurt countered.

"Gosh Bruce," Charlie rolled his eyes dramatically "so rude!"

"You're so extra," Kurt giggled.

"Your extra-ness doesn't answer my question," Bruce pouted.

"We're doing this now because people are in danger," Charlie directed his statement to Bruce, "this dude is making people do illegal shit by messing with their minds just for the fun of it, we need to stop him before he hurts someone."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Kurt grinned as he parked the car in front of the McDonald's, "That's a lie, I probably could have said it better."

"I hate you," Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Why are we at a McDonald's?" Bruce tilted his in confusion, "Are you craving a Big Mac?"

"This is our target's base of operations," Charlie explained, "the person we got in touch with said that when he started controlling people's minds, they would move away from him and the link would be severed. This McDonald's is in the middle of town so he moved here so that he could keep his victim's under his control within the entire town limits."

Kurt handed them each an ear plug, "if you can't hear him then he can't mess with your mind, plug one ear and the Bluetooth headset will keep him out of the other."

"You keep saying he messes with your mind," Bruce plugged his ear and they connected the call, "what exactly does that mean? Does he control people."

"We don't know," Kurt shook her head, "from what we've been told, he convinces you to do things for him."

"Going in blind," Bruce nodded, "that sounds like a good idea."

"We don't need this attitude from you," Kurt scolded.

"I can't think of better people to die with," Bruce shrugged.

Charlie shook his head as they approached the door, "I'm not dying, not today Satan." He scouted the restaurant through the glass door, "Kurt, you go around back."

Kurt nodded and made quick work of moving around the building, there was a biting chill in the air but Kurt tried his best to ignore the cold and focus on the mission. Kurt entered the building via the service entrance and tried to move quietly through the kitchen, Kurt had little idea what he was doing with his future but he knew that a primary aspect of his drive to succeed was so that he never had to see the inside of a fast food kitchen or work as a waiter- the first one of those was out of the window now.

Kurt peered over the counter and saw Charlie curled up in a foetal position on the ground, Bruce was on his knees before a wiry teenager. Kurt made sure that his muscles were stretched and he was limber, he thought about a game plan. Kurt jumped over the counter and flipped across the restaurant, he hit the boy with an axe kick and moved into a guillotine choke.

The boy coughed under Kurt's strength, "Do you see what I mean Bruce?"

"Stop talking or I will crush your trachea," Kurt growled.

"He's dangerous," the boy spoke, "he made you think you would hurt him but he's the one who can hurt you."

"He gets into your head, reads your thoughts and uses some kind of charm to convince you to do things," Bruce spoke between gritted teeth.

"Why are you helping the only person who can hurt you?" the boy was focused on Bruce, "Get angry." Kurt realised that the boy wasn't targeting Bruce because he was resisting, it wasn't because he recognised him. Kurt moved to silence the boy but his words were already working, "Get angry Bruce, bring the other guy out."

Kurt turned to see Bruce down on all fours as he began to transform into the Hulk, Kurt released the wiry teenager and got to his feet. The boy was now focusing all his energy on Bruce, Kurt saw his other victims were no longer under his hold.

"Charlie," Kurt snapped, "I need you to snap out of whatever this guy put into your head and get these people out of here."

The boy moved out of foetal position and moved toward the crowd, "I'm on it Santa."

Kurt turned to where the Hulk was crouched glaring at him, Kurt took a step forward and the Hulk growled. Kurt extended a hand to him, "Hulk, no matter what he says, think of the boy you know."

"The boy who laughed when you were in pain," Kurt glared at the wiry teen but did not move.

"I'm the one who told you the stories in the stars," Kurt countered, "I'm the one who likes you when you're angry."

"He's also the only person you have to be afraid of, the only one close enough to hurt you."

The Hulk charged him and Kurt took evasive manoeuvres but every punch Kurt avoided served only to destroy the restaurant and anger the Hulk.

"Don't do this," Kurt pleaded, he was winded from facing an opponent stronger than him. Kurt only kept his head because he was better skilled but that would only work for so long, "Don't make him right."

"Get out of Hulk's head," the man roared in response as he punched down a wall, inches from where Kurt was standing.

Kurt moved toward the boy filling the Hulks mind with fallacies of Kurt, when he was moving across the restaurant the Hulk grabbed him by the ankle and threw him out the store front window. Kurt landed with a less than elegant tuck and roll, a sharp pain shooting through his side.

"Bruce," Kurt shouted at the man, "Don't make me do this."

The man leaped out of the restaurant and landed in front of Kurt, "Banner is a puny weakling."

"I love you," Kurt breathed in deeply before going on the attack.

Kurt kicked the man in the chest, moving into an arm lock but failing to contort the man's body to his will. The Hulk shrugged him off with ease, the man had four times Kurt's strength and this was a losing game if Kurt couldn't figure out a way to calm or defeat the beast.

"You can't hurt Hulk," the green man roared at him.

The Hulk moved to kick Kurt but he blocked it with ease, this made the Hulk angrier; every moment Kurt used to subdue him seemed only to fuel his rage. The Hulk swung for a punch and Kurt's instinct moved to stop the heat; the last kick of a dying horse.

Kurt's fist collided with the Hulk's and there was an audible crack, he waited for the pain of a broken bone but it never came. He opened his eye, he saw the Hulk clutching his hand and looking at him with large, sad green eyes. In that moment he knew that despite what was being put into his mind, the Hulk had been holding back, trying not to hurt Kurt. Kurt took a step forward and the large man growled, he moved to take another and the growl grew into a roar, "Bruce, I'm sorry." The Hulk growled louder, a sob filled Kurt's throat, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Kurt knew that his apologies were futile, nobody had ever hurt the Hulk and he had just broken one his bones. Kurt fell to his knees as he watched the Hulk leaping out of his life, he had known that his role had only been to unite Bruce and the Hulk but he hadn't counted on loving them both the way he had.

Kurt could only watch as the man he had fallen in love with so quickly ran out of his life, leaping great distances and moving at aped Kurt could never keep up with, Kurt could feel sadness and anger welling up inside him but could not let them consume him, he had a job to do and he could not let his emotions compromise that.

"He left you and now you're nothing," the boy spoke, his voice echoing in Kurt's mind. The words seemed to ignite every single one of Kurt's nerves, pain a tingle on his skin.

Kurt glared at the teen, "I wasn't nothing before meeting him, why would his absence reduce me to a low I've never known?" Kurt threw the magnetic handcuff and secured the man to a nearby lamp post, "this too shall pass."

~0~

 _Present:_

"Did you enjoy your McDonalds?"

"It was delicious," Kurt smiled, "Thank you."

"Are you ready to answer our questions now?" the woman scowled fiercely at him.

"I've been ready," Kurt smiled, "What your question should be is, are we ready to ask Kurt some questions instead of threatening him, trying to figure him out, or baiting him?"

"I don't want to play games with you," Agent May's face was stony.

"Throw those question my way," Kurt smirked.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," her tone was impassive, "is that your real name?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded, "I was born in my parents' house in Oakland and that was the name they gave me at birth, only identity I've ever had."

Kurt watched her fill his answer onto the form, "How long have you had your abilities?"

"Since birth," Kurt smiled.

"What is the nature of your abilities?" Kurt waited for her to clarify the question, "Compare them to average human abilities if necessary."

"I have above beyond peak-human strength," Kurt shrugged, "heaviest thing I've ever lifted was a bus and that was a stretch. I have good durability, not bullet proof but I was once hit by a car and that turned out okay. My intelligence is above that of the standard human, not genius or even peak-human intelligence but I get by."

Agent May nodded, taking note of what he was saying, "Are your abilities genetic, experimental or environmental?"

"Genetic," Kurt appreciated their honesty.

Agent May tilted her head, "Did you inherit them from your mother or father?" Kurt faltered for a moment, "Kurt, are these abilities from your mother or your father?"

"From both of them," Kurt let out a defeated sigh.

"I'm going to start by asking about your mother," Agent May nodded, "How did she acquire her abilities?"

"They were genetic as well," Kurt pressed his lips into a flat line.

"Were they similar in nature to your own?" Agent May stared at him, her eyes were cold.

"In nature, yes," Kurt nodded, "in magnitude, no."

"Was she more or less powerful?"

"Less."

Agent May nodded, "Are you aware of the origin of these powers?"

"Yes," Kurt flashed a weak smile, "she was Kree, her DNA was spliced with cockroach DNA to enhance her durability."

"Kree?" Agent May's stony demeanour cracked, "Like the DNA inhumans have, like GH-325?"

"Why did you think I wasn't afraid of GH-325?" Kurt smirked, "I wasn't afraid of ABO incompatibility, it doesn't exist in our race."

"I see," Agent May nodded, trying to regain her composure, "Can we move on to your father?"

"You stay away from him," Kurt snapped.

"We have no interest in your father," Agent May tried to be assuring, "Are your father's abilities similar to yours?"

"In nature," Kurt smiled, fear creeping up his arm, "but not in magnitude."

"Was he more or less powerful than you?"

Kurt took a deep, steadying breath, "More powerful."

"What is the origin of his abilities?" Agent May seemed to be aware of his trepidations, "we're only asking to have a better understanding of you and your abilities, we will not go back on our word."

"Asgardian," Kurt relented.

"To our knowledge," Agent May leaned forward, "the Kree and Asgardians don't exactly get along, you're not blue, there's a significant portion of you story that doesn't add up; would you like to elaborate?"

"My parents met on earth when my mother was working covertly and my dad was in hiding," Kurt shrugged, "their other worldly origins didn't come up until they had a baby on the way."

"How did they each come to earth?"

"My mother was born here as part of a long line of Kree intelligence operatives stationed for observation on earth," Agent May quirked a curious eyebrow, "a program that was discontinued following my mother's execution, humans were deemed a non-threat."

"And your father?"

"He's a here seeking asylum," Kurt's words were final.

~0~

 _Eighteen Hours Earlier:_

Kurt woke up on Christmas morning, he coughed; his throat was dry and sore but he didn't know if it was from his drinking or the crying. Kurt wiped the sleep from his eyes, lying in bed and thinking of the time he had spent with Bruce; Kurt had cared deeply for the man and had hoped that the same could be said for Bruce but he supposed that had been wrong because the man had left him. Kurt had tried tirelessly to prepare himself for the impending end of his relationship with Bruce but no matter how many times he had told himself that their dalliance would soon be ended by some means or another, his heart ached to be in the man's arms once more.

Kurt rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles, he would have to push Bruce out of his life as he had told himself he would when this day came but he hadn't counted on being the person who drove him away. Everything that he felt for Bruce would be put away in a box and moved into storage so that Kurt could move on, so he could move past the last two months.

"Here comes the train upon the track, there goes the pain," Kurt breathed heavily as he spoke the lyrics to himself, "it cuts to black, are you ready for the next act? To take a step, you can't take back."

Kurt drummed the piano drift into his thigh as he lay staring at the ceiling, he breathed heavily and his throat burned. Kurt flipped his linen open and let the cold air tickle his naked body, it took him a moment to consider moving and another to execute the action. Kurt moved slowly and impassively, completing his morning ritual as he often did; he brushed his teeth, shaped his brow, showered, completed his moisturising routine, got dressed, fixed his hair into the perfect quiff. Kurt looked at himself in the mirror, he didn't look like he'd just been left by the man he loved, he was dressed in what some might call his Sunday best but to him it was his standard dress.

"You're intelligent, witty, multi-talented, charming, in tune with the world," Kurt took a deep breath, "self-important, down to earth, beautiful and out of this world." Kurt smiled sadly at himself, "he didn't leave because of you, he left because of his own issues."

Kurt knew the words weren't true, Bruce had left because Kurt had done the impossible- he had hurt a man who is invulnerable. Kurt plastered a smile on his face for his father and left his room. Carole, Finn and his father sat at their dining table, eating their breakfast.

"Kurt," His father gaped at him as he poured himself a glass of orange juice, "I didn't think you would be joining us."

"Why wouldn't I have breakfast with my father on Christmas?" Kurt smiled at his father.

His father spluttered for a moment, "Considering the events of last night-"

"I got dumped," Kurt rolled his eyes, sipping on his juice, "I'm not dead."

"I know how you feel," Finn beamed at him, "When I broke up with Rachel-"

"Please be quiet," Kurt shook his head, "let's not equate my break up with a man with whom I had great rapport, with the little game you and Rachel are playing."

"Rachel and I are in love," Finn snapped.

"Just because it's love, doesn't mean it's right," Kurt smiled weakly.

"What does that mean?" Carole quirked a curious brow.

Kurt looked to his father, "in the box of my hand-painted _Birth of Venus_ Hermes boating shoes there is a stack of letters, send them out."

The man nodded solemnly, the front and back doors were kicked down and a squadron of black ops agents stormed the house. They pointed their guns around and shouted for everyone to get down; Carole, Finn and his father followed the instructions and laid face down on the wooden floors. Kurt stood with his hands raised, a man of average height stepped forward and he gave the order for the men to stand down.

"Agent Coulson," Kurt smirked as the man removed his mask, "You're early."

"You and the Hulk destroyed a McDonald's," the man countered, "that changes things."

"Did you bring what we agreed on?"

"An immunity form as agreed," Agent Coulson produced a brown envelope with the United Nations seal on the front, "the holder of this immunity is absolved of any crimes, past or present, and cannot be pursued by the government of any country that is a member of the UN."

Kurt smiled, "I'll cooperate completely." He lifted his hands behind his head, "hand the immunity envelope to my father."

"Kurt," his father called out to him, "why are you doing this?"

"Because bad people need to be stopped," Kurt smiled sadly. Agent Coulson put a pair of magnetic cuffs on his wrists and led him out of the house to a waiting SUV.

~0~

 _Present:_

"This is what it all comes down to," Agent Coulson smiled.

"My blue pill, red pill moment," Kurt smiled.

Agent Coulson chuckled, "What makes you think I'm going to offer you some options?"

"Because I'm useful," Kurt smiled, "I pride myself on being an asset to whatever team has the pleasure of having me." Kurt chuckled, "you see that in me and you want me on your side."

"And what use will you be on a team that has a handful of trained field agents and scientist?" Agent Coulson leaned forward, "What is it that we need a seventeen-year-old boy for?"

"I'm just as qualified as any of your field agents, I have the aptitude to apprentice with your scientists," Kurt licked his lips, "And I have a unique understanding of Kree physiology that inhumans have been enriched with."

"You omitted how you've known about the rest of the universe for longer than almost anyone else in the world," Agent Coulson smirked, "you're also personally acquainted with an Avenger, I hardly think this is the time for modesty."

"You have no proof that I knew Dr Banner before destroying that McDonald's with him," Kurt pursed his lips.

"You should consider becoming a lawyer," Agent Coulson smiled mirthlessly, "You have a gift for covering your bases."

Kurt scoffed, "You've changed your tune ever so quickly."

"I know you're going to take the red pill," Agent Coulson smiled, his tone self-satisfied.

"What makes you so sure that I want to be on your team?" Kurt quirked a curious brow.

"Because the alternative is for me to turn you over to the ATCU and have them treat you like a specimen," Agent Coulson tried to pass the threat over as nonchalant and Kurt had to supress a giggle.

"And I'll rip their spines out and used them as my bedazzled cane," Kurt smirked, liking his lips, "their teeth as confetti."

"I don't know what that means," the man shook his head.

"Luddite," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're a luddite," Kurt looked him square in the eyes, "how do you not recognise a simple Warsan Shire reference? You're a man lost in time."

"I'm sorry," the man shook off whatever was on his mind, "it's just, you're not the first person to say that."

"Back to the matter at hand," Kurt smirked, licking his lips, "You were telling me why I'd stay here and join your little team." Kurt shrugged, "I wouldn't have turned myself in and left you with so many clues to find me if I was afraid of prison."

"I know," Agent Coulson leaned in close to him, "You didn't crack under interrogation and that isn't behaviour I'd expect of someone who was reckless enough to lead them straight to them, especially after you fought our location software the way you did."

"What are you saying Agent Coulson?"

"The answer came to me when I was reading your updated file," the man chuckled, "You have unthinkable abilities yet you don't use them to get ahead, you've only used them for showmanship."

"I'm going to say what I said earlier," Kurt leaned forward, "cut to the chase, I don't have all my life to be waiting for you to get you point."

"It was an audition," the man smirked, "everything up till now was your résumé, you were showing me all that you can do."

"Are you impressed?" Kurt tilted his head bashfully.

"How could I not be?" Agent Coulson flashed a bewildered look, "you're very impressive."

* * *

 **I hope you liked it! let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 1 of Phase 2

**A/n: I don't really get how prologues work but I guess this might qualify as one.**

 **Changes I've made to the cannon timeline include; Talbot being named as Rosalind's successor almost immediately (Because we're sliding into Agents of SHIELD's timeline between S03E10 and S03E11), and I have shifted the events of Civil War till after the end of Season three instead of just before the finale.**

 **Thank you all for reading!**

 **Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

When the plane finally touched down, Kurt couldn't make heads or tails of where on a map of the earth they were landing because he didn't have his phone on him and he couldn't check his location; the plane had been in the air for the good part of a week and from what Kurt could gather they had spent a significant portion of the week flying in circles just to mess with him.

Kurt had only survived the flight because SHIELD had confiscated his personal belongings upon his arrest and as such he had them at his disposal, he couldn't imagine he would have been able to stay sane without his clothes, cosmetics and computer. He'd been able to keep himself beautiful and entertained during the flight and his debriefing.

"Welcome director," A tall blonde woman greeted them, "And?"

"This is our prisoner," Agent Coulson explained, "Also our newest recruit."

"I know we're struggling with numbers but what is his skill set?" she quirked a curious brow.

"I'm generally a bad bitch by profession," Kurt pursed his lips.

"That's not telling of your skill set," the blonde woman smirked at him, "Also, aren't you a little young to be an Agent of SHIELD?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "No, you're just old."

"Quite the mouth on this one," she scoffed.

"Don't speak of me as if I'm not here," Kurt crossed his arms, "Rude!"

"Sorry. Bobbi, this is Kurt Hummel," Agent Coulson gestured from one to the other, "Kurt, Bobbi Morse."

"Charmed to make your acquaintance," she smiled politely.

"I'm sure you are," Kurt smirked.

Agent Coulson squared up with him, "Bobbi will complete your debriefing, beginning your orientation."

"I thought you would be the one to debrief me," Kurt pouted dejectedly.

"That's funny," Agent Coulson blushed.

Kurt smirked and turned to Bobbi, "After you."

"Please follow me," she turned on her heels and walked down a hallway. Kurt had little difficulty keeping up due to their similar heights, "You're going to have to let it go."

"I'm not sure what exactly I would be letting go," Kurt shrugged, "You already took my cell phone."

"I mean your little crush on the director," Bobbi smiled politely once more.

Kurt gasped, "you've got to be joking, I'm messing with Agent Coulson." Kurt shook his head, "I have a boyfriend. Yes, he left me after we destroyed that McDonald's together but until he responds to my emails, we are still very much on."

"Well," Bobbi pursed her lips, "messing with him is unprofessional."

"I will take that under advisement," Kurt pursed his lips. He tilted his head and smiled condescendingly, "what do we have planned?"

"This is the lab," Kurt looked around as they entered the high-tech room, "they are going to run some tests on you and ask you more invasive and clarifying questions for the data we've received from Agents May and Coulson." She gestured to a seat for him, she handed him a cell phone, "this is encrypted and untraceable. You're in good hands."

"I can text again," Kurt held the phone to his face, "I missed you baby."

"Glad to reunite you," Bobbi smirked, turning on her heels.

"Bobbi, before you go," Kurt smiled, "Can I get a double espresso non-fat latte with two pumps vanilla?"

"Good morning," a petit, dark haired woman greeted him in a British accent, "I'm Agent Jemma Simmons." She looked between the two of them, "Am I interrupting something?"

"I was just going to get Mr Hummel some coffee," Bobbi gave a saccharine smile.

Jemma gaped at Bobbi as she walked away, "does she get coffee?"

"Probably not," Kurt shook his head, "you just have to shock people enough and they'll do anything for you."

"Okay," she nodded to herself, "I will be completing your physical which will include an array of bodily fluids, weight, height, body fat percentage, blood pressure, heart rate, respirations rate, general physical examinations."

"I'm Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," Kurt smiled as she produced a cotton swab, "you may call me Kurt."

"Charmed," she gave a polite smile, she gestured for him to open his mouth. Kurt waited patiently as she swabbed the inside of his mouth and put the swab into a blue bag, "thank you."

"You studied Biochemistry," Kurt smiled, "how was that?"

"Fine," she shrugged, "I'm going to have to take a blood sample."

"Can I call you Jemma? I'm going to call you Jemma," Kurt smiled at her as he rolled up his sleeve, "what do you think I should study? I'm really torn, I love theatre and music like you wouldn't believe but I think I have a future in science or business or politics- not really sure what my alternative are but they are many and tempting."

"Are you in good health?" Jemma asked him as she gathered her instruments, "any ailments I should know about?"

"Nope, I'm a beacon of great health," Kurt smiled at her, "tell me about yourself, where are you from?"

"England," she answered shortly, wrapping the elasticized band around his bicep.

"I figured as much," Kurt scoffed, "unless you're really dedicated to a fake accent, where about in England?"

"Sheffield," she flipped her hair, narrowing her gaze as she threaded the holder, "I hear you're from Alaska."

"By way of Lima, Ohio and Oakland, California," Kurt smiled.

"You're going to feel a small prick," Jemma leaned forward as she laid down a track in a vein on the inside of his elbow, "You have very fine blood vessels."

"I have very thick skin, that's only the beginning of things about me that will shock you," Kurt giggled, he twitched as the needle pierced his skin.

"Sorry," Jemma smiled shyly as she attached the test tube, her face fell when his blood started to fill the vial, "your blood is violet."

"Indigo," Kurt corrected.

"It's not crimson," she gaped at him.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "please don't lose your shits."

"ME?" Jemma's voice went sharp as she shook her head, "my shits are all in a known location." She smiled, nodding to herself, "it's just the only time I've encountered a similar substance was-"

"GH-325," Kurt furrowed his brow, "did you not read up on me before this encounter? Because I read up on you."

"You read up on me?" Jemma gaped at him.

"I read your personnel file," Kurt smirked, "I know all about the time you spent at the SHIELD academy, the bottom of the ocean, Hydra and on Maveth."

"That's all in my personnel file?"

"I also read the notes of one Leopold Fitz," Kurt grinned excitedly, "Can anyone say erotic friend fiction?"

"Why would anyone say that?"

"Concentrate babes," Kurt snapped his fingers, "I was being a little silly with my wording, an homage to Tina Belcher."

"So nobody has to say…" Jemma nodded in his direction.

"I'm talking about the boner he has for you," Kurt squared up with him.

"We're working on that," Jemma admitted shyly.

"You're working on it?" Kurt gaped at her, "the only relationship I've had was with a man thirty years my senior and we destroyed a McDonald's together; I'm an atheist and McDonald's is the closest thing to sacred for me." Kurt smiled, "those boot shaped McNuggets are everything in my life."

"I don't get the point of that story," Jemma furrowed her brow.

"Oh yes, stories are supposed to have those," Kurt smiled bashfully, "We didn't test the waters, we just waded in."

"And you destroyed a McDonald's together," Jemma countered.

"You're concentrating on the wrong part of that story," Kurt rolled his eyes, "We were together and it was great because we didn't overthink it- at least I didn't."

"I think our situation is a little more complicated than you and your daddy fetish," Jemma scoffed.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Kurt pointed a firm finger to echo his sentiment, "besides how complicated could it be?"

"There was another guy… there is another guy, and there's another girl," Jemma shrugged.

"There was another guy in my relationship too," Kurt smiled at her, "I made friends with him, the Hulk thought I was pretty and he loved my ice-cream."

"The Hulk?" Jemma gaped at him, "were you in a relationship with Bruce Banner?"

"You should really read up on your patients," Kurt scolded. He pursed his lips before smiling up at her, "how's about you organise a full body MRI, CAT scan, EKG, Full body CT and you can tell me more about your beau?"

"He's not my beau," Jemma rolled her eyes, "why are you requesting medical procedures?"

"I've never been to see a doctor," Kurt shrugged, "but I would love to find out what that organ game is like."

"I'm not that kind of doctor," Jemma corrected him.

"You have a PhD in Biology and Chemistry," Kurt shrugged, "Your undergrad speciality was neuroscience, you're the only person I can trust to tell me how many livers I have and not dissect me after they find out."

"Can I introduce you to Fitz?" Jemma smiled broadly, "we've been working on Kree blood, technology and DNA enhanced with Kree chromosomes…"

"Leopold!" Kurt called out, "Fitz!"

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged, "I don't have his number so I can't text him to come over."

"Yes," Jemma shook her head, "but you could have made any signal to the affirmative."

"Bygones," Kurt waved her off. When Fitz appeared Kurt gasped, "you're really cute."

"Jemma," the young man furrowed his brow, "Who is this?"

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," Kurt extended a friendly hand and grinned salaciously, "Charmed to make your acquaintance."

The boy took his hand, "Jemma, I'm not understanding-"

"Jemma was just telling me all about you," Kurt twirled his hair as he spoke, "she didn't tell me you were so cute, can I call you Fitz? I'm going to call you Fitz like Jemma does."

"That's not very clarifying," Fitz furrowed his brow.

"I should have mentioned that I was Kurt of the Kree Empire," Kurt smirked.

"Kree like the lost city? GH-325?" Fitz gaped, "The makers on Inhuman DNA and the diviner?"

"Seeing as Cree Summers doesn't have an empire just yet," Kurt caressed Fitz's chin, "those are the only Kree I know with an empire."

"You're a Kree?" Fitz smiled gleefully at him

"I'm an American," Kurt corrected, "I was born here."

"But you're of the Kree Empire?" Fitz's smile was less dim.

Kurt smiled encouragingly, "in part."

"I have so many questions," Fitz squealed excitedly.

"Look at his blood," Jemma matched his excitement.

"His blood is violet," Fitz gawked, "Your blood is-"

"Indigo," Kurt cut him off, "I look amazing in blue so I know all the shades from cyan to magenta, my blood is indigo."

"Speaking of blue," Fitz rocked from toe to heel, "you're not… uh… blue."

"I'm only partially Kree," Kurt smiled, "I suppose it was a fifty-fifty thing on whether I'd be blue, my dad isn't blue." Kurt shrugged, "I got my mom's dark hair and, guessing from the colour of that blood, I think I inherited her physiology."

"Your father," Fitz grinned at him, "he's-"

"An Asgardian," Jemma gasped, "they just put your file on the system, I have editing privileges."

"Let me see," Fitz lunged for her.

"I've got a double espresso non-fat latte with two pumps vanilla for the chief," A tall, broad man appeared in the door way.

Kurt's jaw went slack, "the coffee's for me, how tall are you? Like six-three?"

"Six-four," the man stared down at him quizzically, "Bobbi said this coffee was for the chief."

"And I'm saying it's for me," Kurt crossed his arms, "how much do you bench-press?"

The man glared at him as he handed him the coffee cup, the man barked at him when he spoke, "Two-fifty."

Kurt sipped the coffee, "this is some well-made coffee, who do I have to thank for it?"

"Mack," Fitz snapped, "Alphonso Mackenzie but we call him Mack."

Kurt's mouth hung open for a moment before his lips curled into a smile, "Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, charmed to make your acquaintance."

"I think maybe you should get back to work," Fitz glared at Kurt as he spoke to Mack, "leave us to ours."

"Sure," Mack nodded slowly, "Whatever works for you Turbo."

Kurt watched Fitz as he watched Mack leaving, he turned to Kurt with a glare, "Let's carry on with your tests." He looked down at the tablets, "it says here that you stack your money everywhere you go."

"You know," Kurt shrugged, "Commas and them decimals."

"That can't be right," Jemma took the tablet but it didn't satisfy her, "under species it says children of the sun, it said Kree-Asgardian hybrid a few moments ago." Kurt quirked a curious brow, "The system has been encrypted with some kind of cypher."

"Unless you're seven million, eight hundred and eighty-four thousand years old," Fitz teased.

"It doesn't say it's in years," Kurt smirked.

"You know what this is?" Jemma quirked a brow.

"They are song lyrics," Kurt smiled, "that's my age in cups of coffee; I started drinking it when I was twelve and I have three cups a day on average."

"How are you doing this?" Fitz gaped at him.

"I'm not doing it," Kurt shrugged, "When I left I forgot to log out of your systems and I had rigged the system to destroy any data you might have on me, stop you from making a kill file on me."

Jemma gaped at him, "Can you stop it?"

Kurt grinned, "One text away." He smiled down at his new standard issue phone, "just a simple deactivation code; _Violets still are blue_."

"That worked," Jemma beamed in awe.

"Things generally work out in my favour," Kurt shrugged, "I'm the chosen one."

Fitz smirked at him, "Did you just make a Harry Potter reference?"

"I just made every sci-fi and fantasy reference," Kurt countered indignantly.

"Well, Chosen One," Jemma smirked at him, "I'm going to need you to lay down so we can scan your body and look at it on the holotable."

"just scanner?" Kurt quirked a brow, "not a CT? or CAT scanner."

"It's kind of an all in one prototype we've been working on," Fitz sounded self-satisfied, "Kind of like the scanner equivalent of a 3d printer and an x-ray had a baby."

"That'll change the diagnostic game for so many people when it's up and running," Kurt gaped, "two pieces of equipment and doctors in disadvantaged areas are going to be able to do so much more."

"I didn't think of it that way," Fitz blushed.

Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head, "wheel me into the machine so that I don't have to look at you while I contemplate how disappointed I am in you."

The machine was a large and metallic, filling a wall in the lab aside from the gap which Fitz was wheeling him into.

Kurt's mind wandered back to the encryption for a moment, he had omitted that someone was on the other end, waiting to receive the message to reverse that encryption. Charlie would recognise the code and await word from Kurt before proceeding with any further action.

In the grand scheme of things Kurt knew that SHIELD would come for them, that they would be arrested and tagged as he was having done to him, and he knew he had to protect his father, Bruce and Charlie. Kurt had formulated a contingent plan for the long run but what he hadn't counted on was him and Bruce prematurely drawing SHIELD's attention by destroying that McDonalds, that had altered the timeline and brought forward his departure by a week and half. Kurt, like the responsible person he was, had left clear instructions on what each of his team mates should do in the case of his impending incarceration and because he was only expecting SHIELD to arrive much later, had trusted his father to mail them upon hi incarceration.

As a result, Kurt's contingent plan wouldn't be ready till the end of the first week of January, Kurt had hoped that he'd have those five days for everything to be explained to his father and Charlie but he had no such luck because the boy had begun his search for Kurt, probably with some coercion from Kurt's father, who had probably mailed his own letter as well.

The subject of each letter was simple; just as their activities in the last month had been Kurt's résumé, Kurt had been compiling one for each of his team mate. As selfish as he was, he wouldn't just use his father, best friend and favourite teacher as a means to an end. The fact that he had promised each of them something made it imperative that he had a plan to fulfil those promises to each of them.

Kurt's first contingent had been an elusive existence working in the robotics department of a car assembly line in Japan, it wasn't a hard job to find for somebody as qualified but it would be a just fit for Bruce; Kurt had tried to forward the plan in an email but he hadn't gotten any response. Kurt had sent Bruce an email every day since they had last seen each other and the man he loved, who was supposed to love him, had yet to reply.

Next on the list was a double whammy; Charlie and Ms 'Please call me Li' Daniels. Kurt had promised Li, Ms Daniels, an opportunity to work with people who had undergone a metamorphic event and Charlie a direction for the future. For both of them the solution had been simple, The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters; Charlie could be a student, completing his undergraduate degree in almost anything and it would fulfil his pre-med requirements; Li could apprentice under Dr Xavier who had a doctorate in Psychology and a MD in Psychiatry, she would be able to work to completion with mutants before he had her transferred to work with another group.

The most difficult person to satiate, in his absence. was his father. He had been the man's whole life since his mother's death and now he wanted to find his own path like they didn't have all of eternity to be apart. How do you fulfil a man who poured their whole life into you? What is next for that person who has lived millennia in your absence but had come to rely on you? Kurt had wracked his mind but the was no correct answer, he wouldn't let his father go because they were bound by something greater than the rest of the group, it was his father.

"Are you alright in there?" Jemma called out to him.

"Excellent," Kurt didn't move, "How much longer till I'm free?"

"Just a little longer," Jemma responded, "You appear to have very dense bones as well."

Kurt couldn't help snorting when he chuckled, "my father always described me as hard headed, I preferred the term obstinate." Kurt smirked to himself, "I'm usually the one who's right in such situations."

"I'm getting images," Jemma gasped excitedly, "and they are glorious, I'm going to help wheel you out and you can move on to the next stage of your orientation."

"I don't get to find out what my physiology is like?" Kurt pouted.

"Later," Jemma smiled, "Allow me the opportunity compile and sort the data."

"Are you going to do it alone?" Kurt looked around the lab, "What happened to Fitz?"

"He went back to the garage," Jemma shrugged nonchalantly.

"I can take it from here Agent Simmons."

Kurt turned to where the voice had come from, "Oh my gosh, you're the most adorable thing ever!"

"Agent Sam Koenig," the man tried not to react to Kurt's comment, "I will be administering your polygraph test and, if you deserve one, I will be giving you your lanyard. After which Agent Morse will give you a more thorough tour of the Playground"

"Are you like a spiffily dressed troll doll with a ten-dollar haircut?"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," the man pressed his lips into a pale thin line, "please follow me."

"What are you?" Kurt peered down at the man as he followed him down the corridor, "Five-two?"

"Five-three," he snapped back, "Billy's five-two."

"Who the fuck is Billy?"

~0~

Kurt squared his shoulder as he got into a fighting stance, "Why are we doing this?"

"Skill assessment," Agent May spoke impassively, Kurt was beginning to believe that was her only tone.

"Why is he watching?" Kurt gestured toward Coulson.

The man shrugged, "I like to watch."

"I don't know if you're hearing yourself," Kurt giggle, "but that's nasty."

"Let's concentrate on the task at hand and ignore Coulson's voyeuristic inclinations," May smirked for a moment, "Come at me."

"This is a skills thing, right?" Kurt double checked, "I'm not supposed to actually hurt you."

"I don't think that would be in your best interest," Coulson scoffed.

Kurt nodded to May and charged jabbing in her direction and avoiding her counter swing, she grabbed his fist in one hand and swung he free arm but he ducked his head, Kurt grabbed her fist and she spun him so they stood with his back against her front and his arms locked over his chest. Kurt used his superior strength to reverse the twist and so they stood facing each other in a tangle of limbs when Kurt tried a double axe kick that transitioned into a bicycle kick.

May moved swiftly avoiding his attempts to attack her, she moved into a crouching position and kicked him square in the chest as he was coming out of the aerial back flip portion of his bicycle kick. Kurt tucked and rolled, as soon as he found his feet enough to overcome the inertia he lunged back May, he grabbed her by the shoulder, flipped over her and used a combination of inertia and his strength to flip her over him; slamming her into the padded floor.

Kurt helped her up and she smiled at him, "You're good."

"You're better," Kurt's breathing was heavy, "you're exponentially more skilled."

"I'm better practiced," she shrugged, "But you think well in tight situations."

Kurt smiled shyly, "I don't think I could have finished like that if I didn't have the strength I have."

"You have it though," May countered, "the only time you should hold back is if you think you might hurt someone."

"Let's take a breather," Coulson moved in closer, "discuss some of your answers to the polygraph."

Kurt quirked a brow, "Do you think I was dishonest?"

"Most of your answers don't make sense and others are too honest," Coulson countered.

"I said 'no' when asked if I was loyal to SHIELD," Kurt nodded.

"And said you were loyal to the Bey-Hive," Coulson looked around, "I didn't know what that was, I googled it and I understand the appeal." He levelled with Kurt, "Why aren't you loyal to SHIELD?"

"I've been here for a few hours," Kurt shrugged, "I need to get to know the people and your processes before I can be loyal to anything here. All SHIELD is right now, is a source of resources."

"The answer I was most entertained by was 'what are you plans for the future?'" Agent May smirked, "to which your responded 'to be worshipped.'"

"I'm not talking about being a God among men," Kurt shook his head, "I just want at least one person who will look at all that I do and think of me as divine."

"On paper you don't make any sense," Coulson shook his head, "when interacting with you and considering your skill set you have the makings of good field agent."

"I think Kurt has great skill, mentally and physically," May agreed, "One of your greatest assets is that people can't tell what you're capable of."

"Hence the testing," Coulson nodded, "We need to know what you're capable of so we can utilise it to the-"

Kurt lifted a silencing finger when his phone started vibrating, "Hold that thought." Kurt took a few steps away from his audience and held the phone up to his ear, "Kurt Hummel, Hello."

"Would it be a douche move to open with I miss you?" Kurt's heart stopped at the sound of the familiar voice, "I'm sorry I left the way I did."

"I got arrested," Kurt hadn't intended on speaking the words but they were the first to come to his mind, "for what we did, I'm being held by SHIELD as we speak."

"I- Uh… I feel awful," Bruce choked on the words.

"Don't," Kurt's words were clipped but he couldn't control his tone, "they were coming for us anyway, the difference between us was that I wanted to be caught and you wanted to be free."

"Are we going to talk about what happened?"

"You were so worried that you would hurt me that you didn't think that I was equally as capable of hurting you," a weak smile spread across Kurt's face and he turned away from his audience, "We never said this but we should have known better than to get used to each other and what we had."

"I like what we have," Bruce chuckled, "I'm enjoying getting used to you."

"Don't torture me with the present continuous tense," Kurt half chuckled, half sobbed, "I don't know if I can take it."

"I know you can take it," Bruce teased, "You're the guy who broke my third metacarpal."

"How's your hand?" Kurt swallowed loudly, "How are you?"

"My hand and I are both fine," Bruce chuckled, "I was just being overly dramatic."

"You've spent too much time with Charlie," Kurt giggled, "He's starting to rub off on you."

"I really do miss you," Bruce admitted, "and the way you smell like strawberries."

"You're only saying that," Kurt blushed.

"I mean it."

"How could you possibly-"

"Because I know that I'm not ready to give up on this, on us," Bruce sounded tired, "I think this time apart will serve us well but I want to give us another try."

"I thought there was someone else," Kurt cursed himself for bringing some else into their moment.

"I haven't called her," Bruce spoke frankly, "I thought I would grow and we'd get back together but I've grown into you, I'm still growing closer to you." Bruce let out a tired breath, "Allow me to grow into the man you deserve."

"We both have growing to do," Kurt affirmed, regaining his composure, "I'll know you've grown when you stop supposing to tell me what I need and deserve."

"I'll text you."

"Read you email," Kurt countered, "do it soon."

"I love you too," Bruce spoke the words and the line went dead. Kurt stood there, it was a short phone call but it had been so loaded; he and Bruce weren't over; Bruce loved him; and, most importantly, he had heard when Kurt had said he loved him while he was in his Hulk form.

* * *

 **Hope you like it!**


	7. Chapter 2 of Phase 2

**A/n: I know I have become so bad at updates but I keep breaking my computers and losing my data. I hope you can forgive me.**

* * *

Kurt held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he waited for his toast to finish, "Sure, they all hate you now but once you turn your charm off they'll realise that you're someone worth knowing."

"Turn my charm off?" Charlie gasped loudly.

"Yes," Kurt nodded to himself, "You do this thing when you meet new people where you try to be charming to impress them but it just makes people think you're a douche."

"Bruce never thought I was a douche," the boy countered.

"You were too busy geeking out to remember to do it when you met him," Kurt rolled his eyes, "and as a result, he likes you."

"So I should be overwhelmed by how cool everyone is and they'll like me?" Charlie didn't sound impressed, "that sounds an awful lot like pandering to me."

"I'm not saying lose your shits for every Tom, Dick and Harry," Kurt smirked, "but be your normal dorky self, let people get to know you before they decide to hate you."

"Says the boy who writes people off as hating him before he meets them," Charlie scoffed.

"I'm not the one who is having difficulty making friends," Kurt countered, "I know what I want in that sphere of my life and not everyone can give it to me."

"What do you think of my theory that they're all jealous?" Kurt chuckled at how his voice went brassy on the last three words.

"I think _Anika Noni Rose_ delivers that line better," he supressed any further chuckles.

"Do you see what I mean?" Charlie spoke impassively, "even you're jealous of how I can combine a solid Dreamgirls reference with an uncanny Anika Noni Rose impression, and you're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I am your best friend but-" Kurt gasped loudly and dropped the phone to clutch his chest, "Oh my god!"

He scrambled to pick up his phone, Charlie on the other end was panicking, "Did Hydra attack? I'll get the X-men and-"

"The toast popped out of the toaster and caught me unawares," Kurt assured the boy, "I'm perfectly fine, no heart attacks."

"I forget you're like this," Charlie teased.

"When I make toast it doesn't violently attack the maker," Kurt snapped, "it behaves itself, those are the perks of making it in the oven."

"It's more work that way," Charlie screamed back.

Kurt rolled his eyes as he buttered his slice toast, "about your little problem-"

"Yes," the boy spoke with desperation, "what do you think?"

"I think the fact that you're working with Professor Xavier instead of the other staff members at _The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters_ might be a source of jealousy for some," Kurt nodded to himself as he began to assemble his sandwich, "but it is beyond your control because of the nature of your gift." Kurt laid sliced avocado on his toast as he explained, "don't make friends with people who don't want to see you succeed, find the other powerful but ostracised kids and make friends with them."

"You're just the king of solutions, aren't you?"

"I have made quite the reputation for myself when it comes to being correct," Kurt smirked to himself as he crumbled feta over his open sandwich.

"What time is it where you are?"

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged, "I'm having breakfast."

"So am I," Charlie beamed.

"I'm an earlier riser than you are," Kurt pointed out, "What time is it in New York? Nine-ish?"

"You're good."

"My internal clock thinks it's about six-ish," Kurt explained, "makes sense that I haven't adjusted from home because I haven't established a new regime." He shrugged and almost dropped the phone as he peppered his sandwich, "but I think I'm still on West Coast time, people seem to be doing the same thing I'm doing at about the same time."

"I have to go," Charlie snapped dismissively, "I'm being invited to a table by popular kids like Cady Heron."

"How grand," Kurt chuckled.

"Viva Celine Dion," Kurt could hear the boy bump his chest.

He chuckled, "In the era of our Queen Beyoncé."

Kurt hung up the phone and sat down at the kitchen table across from Jemma, "Good morning."

"Hi Kurt," she smiled at him, "are you finding things fine?"

"I have a long list of complaints and suggestions for improvement," Kurt smiled at her, "I'm having Fitz and Mack put together a suggestion box."

"That's actually very smart," Jemma smiled, "how did you get Coulson to approve it?"

"I didn't," Kurt shrugged, "I'm just going to put it up, once he sees that we have suggestions it would be in poor form to ignore them."

"I'm not sure if that's how things will go down," she giggled.

Kurt snorted, "things generally work in my favour."

"I'll have to take your word for it."

"I also have a reputation for always being right," Kurt smirked, "spread the word."

"I will shout it from the rooftops," Jemma giggled again.

Kurt's eyes widened suddenly, "What time is it?"

"I wouldn't bother resetting my internal clock," she shook her head, "You'll travel enough that it will be the only thing keeping you from being constantly jetlagged."

"So," Kurt shrugged, "it's breakfast time."

"Yes," Jemma nodded before she gestured at the small open sandwich sitting in front of him "you eat like a bird."

"Never been a big eater," Kurt shrugged, "I'm also not much of a cook so I'm used to using very rich ingredients to make simple foods more complex."

"It looks good," Jemma peered closer, "what is that? Avo and feta on toast?"

"There's a little baby spinach in there too," Kurt nodded, "You guys don't keep peppadews, they elevate the dish by adding heat and sweetness."

"I don't think I'm as much of a foodie as you are," Jemma giggled.

"My boyfriend once said I was more of a snob than a foodie," Kurt shrugged, "this was after I had made him _Tournedos Rossini_ following a failed attempt by him which had actually been _steak au poivre_."

"That sounds like food snobbery," she chuckled, "The last time I lived alone, I only had sriracha and beer in my kitchen."

"Salt, pepper and a whole chicken," Kurt grinned, "you have a meal if you add couscous to the list."

"So," Jemma blushed, "about what I said yesterday-"

"Are you telling me I don't have two hearts?" Kurt gaped at her, "Because I've told all the people who were in my life before my arrest, they would be crushed to learn that my whole life hasn't been a heterotopic heart transplant."

"You know a lot of stuff," Jemma nodded to herself.

Kurt shrugged, "I was reading up on similar cases in humans last night, I couldn't get to sleep."

"I see," Jemma chuckled, "but when I spoke of yesterday I meant what I said about Fitz and I, about the other people."

"About your complicated relationship?" Kurt quirked a concerned brow.

"Yes," Jemma's shoulders slumped, "just let it go."

"Why?" Kurt's jaw went slack, "I wanted to see you wrestle the other person to the ground for your Fitz! Kick a skank in the ribs!"

"He's not my Fitz," She let out a defeated huff, "I misread the situation, I am the other person, not the other way around."

"I still want to see you fight, fight," Kurt gesticulated with his fist, "Fight for this love!"

"I don't think I could take them in a fight," Jemma chuckled dejectedly.

"Is it because Mack has arms larger than you?" Kurt held her hand.

"I also wouldn't want to impose myself."

"You'll never hear me say that," Kurt chuckled, "I'd say something like 'the bigger they are, the harder they bottom' and beat my opposition into submission."

Jemma chuckled loudly, "You are something else."

Kurt moved around the table and took the seat beside her, grabbing her hand once more in both of his, "Babes, the thing about boys is that they are just like buses, they both pick up speed when you try to stop them."

"I don't get the reference," Jemma giggled.

"Throwing your toys won't help you hold onto them," Kurt smiled softly, "but when one boy leaves your life, another comes around the corner."

"Fitz is my best friend," Jemma admitted.

"Then let him know that," Kurt gave a self-satisfied smirk, "Or…"

"Or?"

"Sometimes neither you nor he needs to choose," Kurt smiled, "Think about it?"

"I don't know what that means," Jemma shook her head, a naïve smile on her face.

"This is the twenty-first century," Kurt grinned, "we don't have to love each other one at a time." Kurt's laugh got sadder, "I love Bruce but I knew from the day I met him that he didn't love me alone; he's always thinking of his last love even though he calls me and not her."

Jemma gasped, her jaw hanging open, "Are you talking about polygamy?"

"Nothing that archaic, the patriarchy isn't that strong within me," Kurt giggled, "Ever hear of polyamory?"

"No but I can gather a meaning from the etymology of the term," Jemma smirked.

"If you two really want to be together you won't let monogyny stop you," Kurt pursed his lips, "if you want it and you can promise yourself you won't get jealous then this is the set up for you."

"I'll have to take your word on the matter," Jemma shook her head.

"What are you taking his word on," the man who spoke in a British accent extended a polite hand, the only thing about his manner that didn't remind Kurt of Puckerman, "Lance Hunter."

"Hunter," Jemma clarified, "Kurt was telling me how I could make a meal with six ingredients."

"You cook?" the man gaped at him.

"No," Kurt shook his head, sipping his coffee, "I know how to read a recipe, it's a stripped down version of a Jamie Oliver recipe."

"It's a lot more than this lot can do," Hunter scoffed.

"I beg your pardon," Jemma snapped.

"You make a mean sandwich but I don't know if I'd call that cooking," Hunter countered.

"I also make Fettuccine alfredo," Jemma huffed, crossing her arms indignantly, "and I don't see you doing anything in the kitchen except lubricating yourself with tea and beer."

"I also drink whiskey," the man countered.

"Who is the wine drinker on this base?" Kurt smirked, "with whom should I speak with regard to an evening glass."

"That would be Jemma," Hunter smirked, "The rest of us, we'll do it but we won't enjoy it."

"Blasphemy," Kurt and Jemma gasped in unison.

"Aren't you two peas in a pod?"

"If by that you mean two humans with brains," Kurt quirked a challenging brow, "then yes."

"You know Kurt can snap your femur with his hands," Jemma smirked, "I wouldn't test him."

"I wouldn't hold her to that," Kurt shook his head, "the femur is such an awkward bone."

"I'm going to back away slowly," the man raised his hands in surrender, "I like all my bones in one piece."

Jemma beamed at him, "I'm really going to enjoy having you around."

"Just having me as a standing threat?" Kurt smirked.

"Do you know how curious people are about you?" Jemma smiled, her pride evident, "the director is wetting himself to see you in action."

"Why so curious?"

"For the team I'm sure they hope to see what the director sees in you, he broke protocol to recruit you and all we've seen are the results of your work," Jemma explained, "Nobody knows how you do it, everybody wants to see." She leaned closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder, "I have a simulation that can estimate your abilities, I have an idea."

"I think I'm going to drag this out a little," Kurt smirked, "Keep them guessing."

"What?" Jemma's eyes went wide as she sat up as straight as a pin, "Why?"

"I eat attention," Kurt grinned malevolently. Their phone beeped simultaneously, "Coulson called a meeting."

"Get ready to be fed," Jemma smirked, taking him by the hand and leading him out of the kitchen area.

" _We're gonna get a mission, a mission, a mission!_ " Kurt sang playfully, " _A brand new mission! What's it gonna be?_ "

"That _Phineas and Ferb_ layer entrance was just plain creepy," Jemma shook her head, suppressing a shudder.

"You were a fan?" Kurt quirked a curious brow.

"Were?" Jemma gaped at him, "why are you using the past tense? I am a fan! I'm a little behind but I stream it when I can find the time."

"Babes," Kurt smiled sadly, "it ended."

"There's obviously going to be a revival," Jemma shook her head, "this isn't how it's supposed to be! Good shows don't end; they get renewed for new seasons."

"Flames to dust. Lovers to friends," Kurt shrugged, "Why do all good things come to an end?"

"Now's not the time for Nelly Furtado," Jemma shook her head, "I'm in mourning."

Kurt took his seat, Fitz glared at him with furrowed brows, "did she just say she was in mourning."

"Apparently she's a _Phineas and Ferb_ mega-fan but she hadn't heard it had ended," Kurt shrugged, "Odd, surely she would have encountered word on the internet."

"Jemma hates spoilers," Fitz explained, "she avoids reading anything about the shows she watches, she still doesn't know who killed Rebecca on _How to Get Away with Murder_."

"I'm the complete opposite," Kurt shook his head in disbelief, "I will read every teaser, fan theory and spoiler available."

"Good morning people," Coulson strolled into the room, "Kurt, how's your Spanish?"

" _Eu não falo espanhol_ ," Kurt shook his head.

"That was Portuguese," Coulson furrowed his brow.

" _I'm well aware of that_ ," Kurt smirked, speaking in French, " _I don't speak Portuguese either_."

"Point taken," Coulson nodded.

~0~

"Are you nervous?" the man he'd been introduced to as Joey leaned closer to him, Kurt closed his laptop to pay attention, "I'm nervous, not a good flyer and it's compounded by the fact that this is my first mission."

Kurt smiled politely, "I don't do nervous."

"Oh," he nodded.

"I'm not being dismissive," Kurt's smile warmed, "All being nervous does is distract you."

"How do you cast the distraction aside?" Joey smiled.

"Keep moving forward."

"I'm not sure I can do that," He shook his head in earnest.

"The easiest way is to make plans for when you're done," Kurt smiled, "I give this three days, then I'll be overdue for a buff and polish." He flashed his nails, "I can't die with unkempt nailbeds."

Joey chuckled, flashing his gnarled nails, "It's how I lived my life, it would only be fitting that it would be how I died."

"DVR something," Kurt smirk, "my dad used to watch Grey's Anatomy, he waited to see what happened between Meredith and Derek."

The man quirked a brow, "Your dad?"

"We used to do something similar," Kurt smirked, "doing our part with inhuman outbreak, helping people who recently underwent terragenesis or just came into their prime as mutants, get in touch with those who can help them adjust to their new evolution."

"That's actually really cool," Joey smiled.

"It was," Kurt smirked, "until I got arrested for it."

"Ouch!"

Kurt shrugged, "I miss the Thursday evenings with my father."

"How'd he take Derek's death?" Joey quirked a curious brow, "Your father."

"Wept like a baby," Kurt chuckled, "I've never seen my dad cry, cold as stone in the kitchen light."

"You tell him it was about time," Joey smirked.

"I was raised to keep quiet," Kurt matched the smirk, "A kindred soul."

"Knowing Ed Sheeran makes me a kindred soul?"

"The man makes the kind of music that connects with the soul," Kurt shrugged, "As such it connects souls, also not everyone speaks in song lyrics."

"Can't fight that logic," Joey shrugged.

"Logic is one of my strong suits," Kurt smiled, "it works well with being able to break people's bones with my hands."

"Nice," Joey fist bumped him.

"We'll be landing soon," Daisy announced when she entered the room, she directed her gaze to Kurt, "Can I have a word?"

"For sure," Kurt smirked, "You want to do it in private or is here good for you?" She gestured to the next room, Kurt nodded and followed her, "Am I in trouble?"

"No, nothing like that," Daisy shook her head, "I just want to talk."

"I just want to dance," Kurt smiled.

"Have I done something to offend you?" She furrowed her brow, "did we get off on the wrong foot?"

Kurt shrugged, "I don't know you, not well enough to hold any ill will toward you."

"You seem to be taking well to the rest of the team-"

"And your feelings are hurt?" Kurt crossed his arms, "because I don't think making you feel good about yourself is one of the terms of my incarceration."

"No," she shook her head, "I just think we can work together better if there isn't this chasm between us."

"It'll pass as we get to know each other," Kurt shook his head dismissively, "I don't think you should linger on the matter."

"I just don't want to think the assumptions I made when we first met will colour the rest of our relationship," Daisy held his elbow and smiled.

"If I had issues with you then I would have said something," Kurt stepped closer, lowered his voice and bared his teeth, "until I say something, you can assume we're good."

"Is this the part where we make-out?"

Kurt scoffed, "not even in your wildest dreams."

"We're not that different you and I," Daisy smiled, "our history and the nature of our abilities may be vastly different but there's-"

"You barely know me," Kurt's smiled grew so he bared all his teeth, "what about us is so alike?"

"Our drive," Daisy smiled, "we both came into SHIELD through an unconventional route, we have to overcome our abilities so we don't hurt people, and we both have great hair."

"I considered getting highlights," Kurt tilted his head in approval, "I may still do it."

"You should probably buckle up for landing-" Mack glared at them, "am I interrupting something?"

"Daisy and I are just getting to know each other," Kurt smirked.

Daisy stepped back, "I like your boots."

"They're Alaïa," Kurt smiled, he spun on his heels to face Mack, "did you say it was time to buckled up?"

"Bobbi says she's about to put her down," the large man nodded.

Kurt took a seat on the couch and buckled in, "this is why this is my favourite airline, private."

"Charmed life," Daisy smirked.

"I'd never flown commercial till a month ago," Kurt's smile grew, "when I went to Canada to help Typhoid Mary."

"Never?" Daisy gaped at him, "Our lives are very different."

Kurt giggled, "considering this is the only other plane I've ever been on, it's not hard to achieve."

"You're joking," she smiled more broadly.

"I'd never been to a state I don't live in until I went to Quebec," Kurt shrugged, "I have been to space though, seen the far side of the moon."

"The dark side of the moon," Daisy nodded to herself, "sweet."

Kurt shook his head, "That's actually a myth, while we may only see one side of the moon that doesn't mean that it is the only side to receive light. The far side is bathed in sunlight during the new moon."

"Your file said you were a reader," Daisy chuckled, raising her hands in surrender.

"I didn't read that," Kurt's face hardened, "I saw the moon bathed in sunlight for myself.

Daisy nodded slowly, "I read your account of your time with the Kree Accuser corps, that must have been tough."

"It's behind me," Kurt's tone was dismissive, "I'm looking forward."

Daisy nodded and a silence settled over them, "were you journaling? Earlier, I mean."

"What?"

"You were on your computer, writing, and I was wondering if it was a journal." Daisy explained, "I'm curious, you can tell me to mind my own business if you want."

Kurt took a deep breath, "this isn't it for me, in the fall I want to go to college but I haven't heard back from NYADA, Julliard, Columbia or any of my top choices. I wrote an essay updating them on my choice to follow an unorthodox course of education, I hope that my work here will make me a better candidate for the ivies."

"Yale," Daisy smiled, "Before I took my place in line and life that was my ambition, to be a college co-ed at Yale majoring in some liberal arts discipline."

"I haven't heard from them either," Kurt's shoulders slumped, "if I don't hear back from anywhere soon then I didn't get early acceptance."

"You'll hear back," she unbuckled and offered Kurt a hand, "then you'll move on to your next."

"My dad'll email me when the mail arrives," Kurt smiled politely.

"Let me distract you," Daisy smiled, "let's stop an inhuman."

"I usually go shopping for a distraction," Kurt pursed his lips, "do you know how hard it is to dress fashionably on a budget?"

"These jeans are standard issue," Daisy chuckled as she led him to the door, "You should shadow Bobbi, there's a lot you can learn from her."

"Bobbi is the most senior field agent on this mission and as such she will be observing me because despite the fact that this is both Joey and I's first mission, Joey was trained in a SHIELD facility and I'm an unknown variable," Kurt pursed his lips.

"You're good," Bobbi smirked, "get in the car."

"That's what an old man once said to me in the park," Kurt countered, "apparently it had puppies in it, does your car have puppies."

"I'm not trying to lure you into my van," Bobbi furrowed her brow, "there will be no puppies."

"Bummer," Kurt rolled his eyes.

~0~

Kurt stood beside Bobbi and nodded solemnly as the police officer explained the incident to her in Spanish, he didn't really understand the man but based on tone and the occasional word he was stringing together. The man was too frantic to be coherent, his retelling of his experience was nonsensical and seemed to contradict itself from the little Kurt could pick up.

Kurt looked about at the scene, other than the police van having its doors forcibly opened and its cargo taken, there was little destruction; their perpetrator had known what they were doing and what they wanted. Kurt listened to the man's retelling as he continued to observed the scene, their perpetrator had gone unseen which suggested a mastery of their abilities; and by extension, either abilities that are simple to master or that their perpetrator was very intelligent; Kurt feared it was both.

Kurt watched as Bobbi thanked the man for his assistance and turned on heels to regroup with Hunter and Mack, Kurt watched the cogs in her mind working, "This seems to have created more questions than it has answered."

"You can say that again," Kurt rolled his eyes.

Bobbi furrowed her brow, "I beg your pardon?"

"The idea of invisibility in itself is problematic," Kurt shrugged, "unless the perpetrator had the ability to turn the things they touched invisible as well, that doesn't give us the truth." Kurt gestured to the area around them, "It also doesn't account for the state of the crime scene."

Bobbi squinted in his direction, "I thought you didn't speak Spanish."

"I don't," Kurt shook his head, "I happened to pick up the bits that are mutually intelligible."

"On which end?" Bobbi scoffed.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I obviously mean French, the two countries are adjacent."

"But the two languages are mutually unintelligible," Bobbi shook her head.

"I got the gist regardless," Kurt shrugged.

"What did you get the gist of?" Hunter glared at him.

"My conversation with the police officer who was driving at the time of the theft," Bobbi explained, "despite the fact that the conversation was in Spanish."

"What'd he say?" Hunter probed, "what has the dreaded fish taco done now?"

"Tacos are traditionally a Mexican food," Kurt glared at the man, "this is Columbia; while they might be part of cuisine in the modern day, they are as much Columbian as French food is British."

Hunter raised his hands in surrender, "I didn't mean-"

"What you mean and what you say are two different things," Kurt crossed his arms, "Ever hear that the road to hell is paved with good intentions?"

"Let's just focus on the case," Bobbi silenced them both, each nodding their affirmation.

"The police officer thought their assailant was invisible," Kurt explained with an overly dramatic eye roll, "I don't think that's accurate, the guns seemed to disappear rather than be taken or handed to an unseen assailant."

Hunter grinned, "Can you imagine the things you could do with invisibility?"

"Not many unless you're willing to walk around naked and still be detectable because of the way objects interact with you," Kurt shook his head, "I think the power you have in mind is photokinesis."

"I don't know what that is," Hunter shook his head.

"Light manipulation," Bobbi explained, "that way you can render yourself and objects invisible by changing the way that light interacts with them."

"But I can imagine what you think you could do," Kurt glared at the man, "and you nasty."

"I just…" Hunter shrugged, "it was never meant to be."

"Not meant to be?" Mack spoke, breaking his silence and arching his brow as flawlessly as only Kurt himself could, "what is that supposed to mean?"

"Are you telling me you didn't try one of those fish oil pills?" Hunter smirked but Mack's silence spoke volumes, "Bobbi knows what I mean."

Bobbi shook her head, "I didn't actually do it."

"You two deserve each other," Mack huffed disapprovingly, walking off to continue with his reconnaissance work and ending the conversation.

Hunter gaped at him before he could get back to work, "Kurt?"

"What?" Kurt shrugged.

"Tell me you tried one of the fish oil pills!"

Kurt shook his head, "I get my omega-three from walnut oil salad dressing."

"X-ray vision," Hunter insisted.

"Firstly, you're a little creepy," Kurt took a playful step away from the man, "Secondly, do you know what happens when you consistently expose the people you love to hard X-radiation?" Hunter shook his head, "Cancer."

"You ruin everything," Hunter sulked.

"Don't blame me," Kurt shook his head, "blame the laws of physics."

"You're the one who keeps applying them to my fantasies," Hunter pouted.

Kurt smirked as he and Hunter pretended to do their jobs, "this is why I only fantasise about being adored; by countless fans and sexually."

Hunter furrowed his brow, "Like a porn star or like a super orgy?"

"No," Kurt chuckled, "separately; each fantasy is either about being adored by millions, or being adored sexually by a number under-" Kurt went silent for a moment as he contemplated what he was saying, "let's not block our blessings, five."

"Those are good fantasies," Hunter nodded, "but how are you going to be adored by millions?"

"I could become a world famous performer, I could become a politician, I could marry someone important, I could cure something important, there are a number of fairly probable ways to get famous."

"You're good," Hunter relented as they headed back to the car.

"Somethings just need you to put a bit of thought into them," Kurt smirked smugly.

"Don't be smug, that's my thing."

Kurt held his hands up in surrender, "I wasn't being smug."

"Arrogance doesn't suit you either sweetheart."

"It's not arrogance when your abilities match your confidence," Kurt smirked, "that's being self-aware."

"That's a good one," Hunter chuckled, "I'm going to use that one."

"Hunter," Kurt stopped in his tracks, "Where is the car?"

"I don't know," Hunter looked around suspiciously.

"Do you think they left us here?" Kurt frowned as he dialled Bobbi's number.

"That would be so rude," Hunter gaped.

"So rude," Kurt agreed as he waited for Bobbi to answer her phone.

"Kurt," she didn't sound impressed, "what's up?"

"Did you guys move the car?" Kurt spoke impatiently.

"No."

"Does it become invisible?" Kurt followed up.

"No."

"It's definitely gone," Kurt looked around, "Do you know whether Mack would have any reason to take it?"

"No," Bobbi's voice came from behind him instead of through the headset.

Kurt watched her try to touch the missing car, Hunter furrowed his brow, "I thought you said no to the car being invisible?"

"Who knows what Fitz and Mack do in their spare time?" Bobbi held her hands up in surrender, "I wouldn't be surprised if the car was also a spaceship, they never tell us about anything."

"I have figured as much," Kurt nodded, "but I don't think they spend their time making cars invisible."

Bobbi stepped forward and tried to touch the car again, "Okay, I'm satisfied it isn't invisible."

Kurt groaned, "Are we going to have to walk to the ship because these boots are an Alaïa?"

"I think you should be more concerned with the fact that Mack is missing than your shoes," Hunter countered.

"We can't legally declare him missing until he's been gone forty-eight hours," Kurt shrugged, "I'm going to call us an Über."

"I'm going to call Daisy and Joey," Bobbi said, "We need to find Mack, that'll lead us to the people we're looking for."

~0~

"Okay," Daisy furrowed her brow, "Mack is gone, how did that happen?"

"We think he was kidnapped," Hunter interjected.

"How do you kidnap someone as large as Mack?" Daisy quirked a brow.

"They took the van as well," Hunter shrugged, "I'm sure an SUV is the only car you could move him in without his permission without needing a special license."

"Unless you use a honey pot," Kurt smirked, "with the right engineer you could lure him into the back of a smart car."

"I can see that happening," Joey snorted.

"I know, right?" Kurt beamed.

"Why would you use an engineer specifically?" Bobbi quirked a curious brow.

Kurt stopped for a moment, "I just think-" his words twisted in his throat, "he'd better enjoy the company of someone in a field that was more closely aligned to his own field of expertise."

"Speaking of," Daisy drew all their attention, "you're sure the car isn't invisible? Knowing Fitz and Mack anything is possible."

Kurt wanted to scream at how oblivious a group of seemingly intuitive people could be about things that came to him more naturally. Kurt shook his self-defeat off and focused, "Bobbi checked twice." Kurt confirmed, he buffed his nails on his shoulder, "just check the car's tracker. Follow it to Mack and the big bad weapon thief." Kurt smiled to himself, "When I tried drinking in sophomore year I woke up in a fountain in the park near my house and I realised that I'd lost my car, my tracker helped me find it."

"That's very disturbing," Joey scoffed.

Kurt shrugged, "I learnt a life lesson."

"SHIELD vehicles and equipment are untraceable," Daisy explained, "We wouldn't want Hydra or the Government to use those bugs to trace us."

"That doesn't seem smart," Joey shook his head.

"Especially considering that there are people like me who are here as an alternative to prison," Kurt added.

"I've always wanted a Lexus," Hunter smirked, "Now I know how I'm getting one."

"I need a new car too," Joey chuckled shyly, "I kind of melted my old one, I don't think my insurance will cover that."

"You should file under driver related damage," Bobbi suggested, "or natural disaster cover, claim it was a heat wave; they can't contest that."

"Oh," Joey's face lit up, "you're good! If that works out then I'll only steal office supplies."

"My dad cut the lease on my Navigator," Kurt smiled, "The idea of a Lexus sounds great, I especially like the matte black."

"You had a Navigator?" Daisy quirked a curious brow.

"My dad knew the dealer and he gave us a ridiculously good price," Kurt explained, "Basically giving it to us at cost."

"That's how the rich get richer," Hunter sulked.

"Oh, come on! I just-" Kurt crossed his arms with an indignant huff, "shouldn't we be looking for Mack?"

Bobbi nodded, "what you got Daisy?"

"I've got security camera footage," She pointed to the monitor and they all crowded around to have a look, "You see there he is."

"He's looking at someone or something," Bobbi added, "Then the van opens itself."

"There goes invisibility," Kurt nudged Hunter in the ribs.

"Then he just goes flying into the back of the van," Bobbi shook her head, "Telekenisis?"

"Doesn't explain how Mack loses his weapon to the assailant," Hunter shook his head.

"Look at the way Mack flies into the van," Joey pointed his finger, "he was pushed." Everyone turned to Joey and he shrank under the scrutiny, "maybe."

"How do you push someone as large as Mack?" Hunter shook his head, "not that I haven't tried."

Kurt waited for Joey to answer but the shyer boy was silent, "You overcome his stationary force, either by having a greater mass or a greater acceleration." Daisy quirked a brow, "I'm still studying this stuff, I have exams at the end of the academic year."

"I remember that I learned physics in school," Bobbi shrugged, "but I just remember the names of the things I learned; one of them was called mechanics, right?"

"That's this section," Joey chuckled shyly, "the study of motion."

"Back to the matter at hand," Hunter snapped his fingers, earning a glare from everyone in the room. He shrunk under the scrutiny, "I got bored of the nerd talk, sorry."

"So rude," Kurt shook his head in disapproval.

"Sorry," Hunter held up his hands in surrender, "but are you telling me that we're dealing with someone with super physics?"

Bobbi flicked his ear, "if you were patient then we'd have gotten an answer from the physics student."

"It's super speed," Kurt tried to supress a giggle.

"Super physics is a good guess considering we live in the physical world and all superpowers are super or alternative physics," Joey teased, "you get a gold star."

They all laughed at Hunter's expense, Bobbi stopped laughing, "Still doesn't tell us where Mack is."

"Yes," Daisy smiled as she typed furiously on her laptop, "but we can slow the video down until…" she typed more furiously until a vaguely distinguishable figure appeared, "we can identify our assailant's reflection as it is visible in the car window."

"And now we can get their details off the system," Bobbi grinned.

"Her details," Kurt clarified, "Elena Rodriguez."

"She's a bookkeeper at a museum and she teaches art classes at a night school," Bobbi furrowed her brow, "are you sure this is the right person?"

"Maybe she's diversifying her portfolio," Hunter shrugged, "Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"Joey, Kurt," Daisy got to her feet, "let's go rescue Mack."

~0~

"… _I'd like to know that your love, is love I can be sure of. So tell me now, cause I won't ask again_ ," Kurt crooned along with Amy Winehouse.

"We're here," Daisy reprimanded him.

"Just a few more seconds," Kurt shushed her, " _Will you still love me tomorrow? Will you still love me tomorrow? Yeah_." Kurt hummed the rest of the song as they disembarked from the car.

"You're never picking the music again," Daisy grumbled, "I thought I had my bases covered when I said no Celine Dion."

"I personally prefer when Roberta Flack sings that song," Joey shrugged.

"The drama Amy brings to the soundtrack version of this song," Kurt shook his head, "She slays."

"The drama is what makes me prefer Roberta," Joey shrugged, "Amy is too over the top."

"I would agree," Kurt pursed his lips, "if she didn't completely get away with it."

"I will give you that much," Joey shrugged, "She does get away with it."

"That's enough," Daisy snapped in a hushed voice as they came to the third floor landing, "the element of surprise is everything."

"Sorry," Joey and Kurt whispered in unison.

She signalled for them to advance, Elena's apartment was at the end of the hallway and they stood at the ready. Daisy extended her hand, ready to blast the door down but Kurt grabbed her by the wrist, "If you damage the door she won't get her deposit back."

Kurt grabbed the door handle but it was locked, Daisy smirked knowingly but Kurt kept turning the handle till the locking mechanism gave way, "see, a lock is easier to discreetly replace th-" Kurt was blown off his feet by an unseen entity soon as he swung the door open.

Daisy sent a pulse through the air and blasted the woman back when she tried to attack. Kurt gasped when, despite flying back in one direction, she reappeared on the ground between them and the bathroom where Mack was taped to the pipes.

"That was freaky," Joey confirmed what Kurt was seeing.

"You can say that again," Kurt nodded his agreement, Kurt rubbed at the base of his spine, "Could somebody please help me up, I think my tailbone is as bruised as my ego."

"Here we go hombre," Joey extended a helpful hand as Daisy cuffed their target, he then jogged over to where Mack was taped to the exposed bathroom piping, "Let me help you Mack."

"Thanks to all of you," Mack smiled broadly as he rubbed his wrists, moving the joints to recall his dexterity.

"Don't thank us," Daisy smiled politely.

"Send money," Kurt countered.

"Kurt!" Daisy and Joey chorused in reproach.

"Fine," Kurt rolled his eyes and cocked his hip, "isn't this the part where one of you makes an unwitty pun."

"Not really our style," Mack chuckled.

~0~

"Hello," Kurt answered his phone with a start, glad for the distraction from Elena's interrogation.

"Hi," an unfamiliar, masculine voice came through the receiver, "is this the owner of IP address '2001:0DB8:AC10:FE01::'?"

Kurt was silent for a moment, "who has their IP address memorised?"

"Someone with the technical know-how to hack my system," the man sounded mildly annoyed, "I'd like to speak to that user."

"It's cute how you're trying to make your problems my problems," Kurt chuckled, "but I don't work for you, I don't have to do anything for you, least of all connect you to somebody whom you can't even name or prove exists."

The voice chuckled arrogantly, "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"You called me," Kurt countered, "also, you're assuming I would care if I did know."

"Look," the man sounded irritated by this point, "you hacked me-"

"Allegedly," Kurt added the clarifying information, "look, it's going to sound like I'm hanging up on you because-" Kurt hung up and smiled at his dark phone, "I'm hanging up on you."

"Who is that?"

Kurt wasn't aware he had an audience but he looked up and locked eyes with Fitz, he grinned malevolently, "this guy who is totally going to want to bang me in a few months."

"After you spoke to him like that?" Fitz quirked a curious brow.

"Different strokes for different folks," Kurt shrugged, "he's probably got a boner right now."

Fitz shook his head in disbelief, "What makes you think he's into being condescended to?"

"He knew exactly who he was calling yet he asked me who I was using my IP address," Kurt smirked, "he was trying to play me, I just changed the rules of the game."

"That sounds like a lot of hard work," Fitz shook his head.

"Well," Kurt shrugged, "it's more universally accessible than your thing."

The man's eyes turned to saucers, "my thing."

"Derp, look at me I'm Scottish," Kurt put on an overly exaggerated accent as he spoke, "I'm being adorable, I don't really get people but this is making you want to fuck me for some reason." Kurt put his index finger to his lip and arched his back as if being nonchalantly seductive, "derp."

Fitz gaped at him in awe for a moment before a grin slowly spread across his face, "I do not say derp that much."

"The fact that you say it at all is concerning all on its own."

"Also, I don't know what you mean," Fitz shook his head, "I'm single, you're the one who has Bruce Banner wrapped around your finger."

"I'm sure you could find someone to destroy a McDonald's with, right here on this plane," Kurt grinned.

"You do realise that isn't a date?" Fitz shook his head, "it's also very illegal."

"The things we do for sex," Kurt shook his head.

Fitz gaped at him, "how did you fly under the radar for so long with an attitude like that?"

"Self-suppression," Kurt nodded to himself, "My dad was very paranoid about being found by the government, this made it imperative that we live a certain way." Kurt smirked malevolently, "now he has universal immunity and I can be as visible as I like."

"And this is how you choose to be visible?"

"As Shakira says 'Try Everything'," Kurt smirked.

"Kurt," Daisy peaked into the room, she eyed the pair of them for a moment, "We've confirmed that Elena is telling the truth, Bobbi and Hunter are MIA and we suspect the police."

"May I please be excused?" Kurt smirked, "I need to go rip out some spines."

"We're not ripping out people's spines," Daisy gaped, "maybe we'll knock some people unconscious, but no spine ripping."

"You do realise that I've destroy a McDonald's," Kurt flicked the tip of his nose with his thumb, "I'm beyond the law."

"Then let's consider cleanliness," Daisy chuckled as she led him to the car, "who's going to clean the mess afterwards? Do you want to get blood on those beautiful Alaïa boots?"

"I'll let them keep their spines this time," Kurt rolled his eyes. Kurt swung his arm over Daisy's shoulder, "can I pick the music again?"

"I think Joey deserves a turn," Daisy grinned, "spare me from the ballads for a bit."

"I was actually going to go the showtunes route," Kurt shrugged, "you could stand to learn a thing or two about Jellicle Cats."

"I don't know what that is but I hope it stays as far away from me as the sun," Daisy shook her head, "Get in the car."

"What do you have for us Joey?"

"Just listen," the boy smiled shyly, "And be amazed."

A funky guitar rift filled the car, followed by the snapping of fingers, ' _I was just a little girl, skinny legs, a press and curl_.' The radio sung, filling the car with the sound of the turn of the century.

"This song goes in," Kurt smirked, "I was barely a person when this song was released but Lauryn Hill has a timeless and ageless quality to her."

"That's some high praise," Daisy smirked, "but I must agree, even I know this one."

"Since when do we play music in the car?" Mack spoke from behind the wheel, "Aren't we supposed to be getting into the zone?"

"We're just going to beat up some cops," Kurt scoffed, "We're not going to invade a foreign country."

"For someone with little to no experience, you seem awfully sure of yourself."

Kurt shrugged, "Worst case scenario, we die."

"Or we're captured and kept in some facility far from everything and everyone we've ever known," Joey retorted.

"Nice one," Kurt high-fived him.

"You are aware that he's talking about SHIELD," Daisy furrowed her brow, "right?"

"Yes," Kurt rolled his eyes, "that's what makes it funny."

"We had his permission to do that," Daisy squalled defensively.

"I get the feeling that they're both aware of that," Mack gave a small chuckle, "I think they're trying to get under your skin."

"I think you're starting to catch on," Kurt smirked condescendingly.

Daisy rolled her eyes, "Let's get this over with, then you two can grill me till you're blue in the face."

"Blue in the face?" Kurt quirked a curious brow, "is that some kind of joke? Because that's kind of racist."

"What?" Daisy gaped at him, "I didn't mean it that way, I wasn't thinking about it that way."

"I know," Kurt giggled, "I don't even think of it that way." Kurt hopped out of the car, "Let's covertly interfere in the affairs of a foreign nation."

Joey looked him up and down, shrugged and flashed a lopsided grin as they followed Daisy into the police station. Kurt stretched his limbs, cracked his knuckles and prepared himself for battle, "what are you expecting to find in there?"

"Probably guns," Kurt shrugged, "I'm not ready to be shot."

Mack turned the safety off his firearm, "nobody wants to get shot."

"Do I get a gun?"

"I'm not putting a weapon in the hands of a sixteen year old," He shook his head, "besides, given the state of that McDonalds, one might think you are the weapon."

"I'm a little boy," Kurt batted his eyebrows.

"You all remember the plan?" Daisy asked the group. They all nodded, "Let's go."

Kurt kicked down the door and Elena stormed the room, taking down two of the guards. Kurt followed her, taking point from her when she was shot back to her original spot. Kurt ran as fast as he could, he summersaulted over the next guard and grabbed him by the shoulders, slamming him into the wall. Kurt ran on the wall for a few steps, leaving crates where his feet had made contact with the wall.

Joey melted the policemen's guns before they could reach for them; Daisy, Elena and Kurt took them out one by one. Kurt tumbled from wall to wall, using his strength to create inertia which added an extra kick to his roundhouse. He was caught unawares by Elena's immobilised body, crashing into him at great speed and knocking him off his feet.

Kurt growled, "What the hell?"

"Watch out for Medusa eyes over there," Daisy warned, "Joey?"

"I'm on it," the nervous young man mumbled.

Kurt got back to his feet and pounced as Joey melted the man's sunglasses onto his face, knocking the man back and unconscious. He rolled out of the tackle and flipped back onto his feet.

"You are amazing to watch," Daisy gaped at him, "You're probably as good as May."

"This was nothing," Kurt shrugged.

"You walked on the walls," Joey mused.

"And you're bullet proof."

Mack shook his head, taking point, "you're all pretty girls."

"Tell me something I don't know," Kurt rolled his eyes, "Like what we do next?"

"Next, we get Bobbi and Hunter," Mack explained, "And we head home."

"I'm not going to call that dungeon home," Kurt shook his head, "Home is where the hardwood floors and crown mouldings are."

"I have carpets in my apartment," Joey furrowed his brow, "does that make me homeless?"

"Basically," Kurt shrugged.

Daisy glared at him, "I was actually homeless, lived in my car, not the same as having to suffer through bad decorating."

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**


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